The Coven of Albion
by MindForgedMan
Summary: Upon realizing his strange abilities, a young Harry uses them to run away from his hateful family. Given his importance to a world he doesn't know exists, how will life on the streets change the Boy-Who-Lived & the destiny he is fated? Will faith & family will provide what he never had? AU, Black Coven & political themes. Formerly titled "Break the Limits"
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**(A/N):** Some odd terms will be used in the initial few chapters of this fic. The reason why will be explained at the end of this chapter. Apologies for any and all typos and grammar errors. This initially started as an idea I didn't plan to do and I couldn't stop, hehe.

* * *

"Boy, get in here!"

At his Uncle Vernon's trademark screech, a 7-year old Harry Potter sighed depressedly. He had just finished putting his school things into his cupboard after coming "home" from a strange day in school. No doubt his uncle had learned what happened and was going to let him have it, as he always did when anything slightly out of the ordinary happened.

"So," Vernon Dursely said simply as he entered the living room, expecting that Harry knew what was about to be said. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Harry knew from experience that it was useless to plead innocence. As far as Harry could tell, he was the source of anything strange and bizarre. And strange and bizarre things _did_ seem to dog Harry's heels. Today his elderly primary school teacher's wig somehow turned blue without anyone seeing how it happened. Dudley had been poking Harry's ribs to annoy him. Harry had began poking Dudley in return him to get him to stop, and naturally the teacher managed to catch _him_ retaliating.

She had walked up to Harry and said abruptly, "Causing trouble, Mr. Potter?"

Harry yelped in surprise, not having seen her coming. He felt a strange tug within him, and when he looked up at the teacher, he noticed that her wig was now blue instead of the dulled brown of a few minutes prior. Within a few moments, the entire class (Harry included) erupted into laughter at the ridiculous sight, thinking it to be a prank. There teacher hadn't taken kindly to it.

"The school called to tell us that you pranked the teacher, turned her hair blue. Funny thing is, she couldn't figure out when or how you'd done it," Vernon said, building up a head of steam clearly, as his face was turning a fierce puce. "I believe I told you what would happen if you misbehaved at school again."

Harry nodded and prepared for it, trying to hold back the tears as he knew they wouldn't help things in the least. Vernon went to the hall closet and pulled out "the switch", the striped, thin tree branch he favored for punishment. He used to use his belt, but he said that it lacked the right "oomph" and lasting reminder that a proper switch had.

Harry dropped his pants and Vernon bent him over his knees and began to give Harry his just deserts.

 **Thwack!**

"You keep that unnaturalness inside!" he said firmly. Harry began to cry from the sharp pain from his backside.

 **Thwack! Twack!**

"We didn't take you in and give you a home to let you become another freak." Harry tried to suppress the outcry of pain. He just wanted to be out of here, away from this sham of a home. He felt "the tug" from before but held it in, instinctively feeling it would make things worse if he let it out.

 **Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!**

"But I'll set you straight. You'll not burden us by being like your abnormal parents, boy." Harry couldn't help but think that if he could just leave this he'd gladly not bother with his last bit of family. Number 4 on Privet Drive had never felt like a home for him, it was a prison he had to return to because there was nowhere else for him, no one else to take him in. But anywhere else had to be better than this place, surely...

Feeling that the boy had been properly punished, Vernon had Harry pull his pants back up and sent him to his cupboard with until dinner time came. Later than night, Harry couldn't repress the shudders as his painful behind ached from his whipping a few hours back. He didn't understand why these things happened to him and no one else. It was currently October the first, but back in September he had somehow regrown his hair overnight after his aunt Petunia cut nearly all of it off to make him "more presentable" as the school year was about to start.

Harry steadied his breathing and waited for sleep to claim him, wishing more than anything that he could get away from the beatings, the hunger, the isolation.

* * *

A few days later, school had started off well enough. He had gotten an "A" on his math work; he quite liked doing addition and subtraction. Even Dudley hadn't found an opening to ruin the otherwise ordinary day, allowing Harry to daydream about a different life, one where he was able to do whatever he wanted without being blamed for everything.

And then recess came. Dudley and his gang of miscreants had made it clear that Harry was a no-go zone as far as playing went, with bullying him and making him generally miserable serving as a warning of what would happen if they tried to. As the dozens upon dozens of other children were playing all around the schoolyard, Harry had been sitting off to the side of the playground on a bench, enjoying the surprisingly warm afternoon and imagining that he had left everything behind. Suddenly Dudley shoved him off the bench, sending hims sprawling onto the ground.

"Hey, what's the big idea, Dudley?" Harry yelled out as he stood back on his feet.

Dudley and his crew began laughing at the question. "I believe it's time for a good game of Harry Hunting, don't you think guys?" Pierce Polkiss and the rest of the bunch nodded enthusiastically; it was a favored pastime, especially at the playground near the Dursely residence.

Harry ran off as soon as Dudley had asked the rhetorical question, knowing it was anything but a threat. His aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon never asked nor cared about the occasional bruise or bump Harry would sport afterwards. "Rough housing", they called it.

Harry was scared, as he doubted very much that his teacher would believe him if he said what happened. The wig incident had likely cemented her belief that Harry was nothing but a troublemaker. It was annoyingly unfair.

' _I've got to find somewhere to hide until they get bored,'_ he thought in a panic. As he rounded the corner to the back of the school, he jumped behind some of the electrical equipment and loud fans that were outside the school. He didn't know what they were but they were big enough to hide behind.

"Come on boys," Dudley's voice rang out from nearby. "He's got to be hiding around here somewhere, crying I bet," he said smugly.

' _Don't let them find me, don't let them find me...'_ Harry thought desperately. He was tired of being hit, he was tired of it all and he didn't want to be here.

This time around, he didn't fight against "the tug" in his gut and allowed it to do whatever it did. Suddenly, Harry found himself being pulled in the strangest of ways. It was as if he were being squished from all sides through a small, dark tube. After the sensation left, he opened his eyes in a daze, only to find himself on the rooftop of his two-story school building.

"What was tha-" he started to say before he felt an awful clenching in his gut. And then he puked up the lunch he had just eaten before recess. It was a shame too, the school cafeteria actually gave him enough food to feel full before the Durselys happily gave him scraps for dinner. The way he was going, he'd look like a pencil in clothing by the time he was grown.

After the hurling fit ended, Harry began to get scared and was near to crying due to being so high up and alone. But then he began to think about how he had gotten up so high in the first place.

"Hm," he mumbled. "There was that… that… Squishing thing and I ended up here," he said. He peeked over the side of the school building to look back down at where he had been hiding. Dudley, Pierce and his goons had moved on to look for him elsewhere.

' _Let's try that again,'_ he thought. He imagined Dudley was coming to beat him up again until that weird feeling in his stomach returned. Once again he embraced the sensation instead of trying to hold it in and pictured himself being down behind those loud fans again.

And much to his delight - despite how uncomfortable it was - he got The Squish again and appeared back where he had been hiding before. Just as he began to celebrate, his stomach protested the action, though he was able to avoid puking again. Just barely.

"I've got superpowers!" Harry shouted believing he'd found the answer to his prayers.

But alas, all good thing must come to an end.

"Harry Potter!" yelled his teacher as she came around the building, having obviously been looking for him.

Harry flinched at the sound of her voice, not considering that he might get caught by the teacher for disappearing from the schoolyard and playground. He knew he'd be in for another whipping when he got home, but he felt strangely unconcerned.

He knew he found a way to get away from these crazy people at last. He just needed to master his newfound power.

* * *

 **(5 months later, beginning of March)**

It had taken some doing, but Harry knew that he had found a way. As soon as he realized he had superpowers, he had begun to spend his recess periods in the library most days. Aside from the fact that Dudley's gang wouldn't be caught dead in the library (even to torment Harry), the library had a number of old comic books to read. And one common thing Harry saw in the stories repeatedly was that superpowers always had a limit, there was only so much they could do. He was particularly taken by Superman comics, given the character had a variety of powers at his disposal, but kept his true self a secret to the world so he could live a normal life and protect his friends. Harry hadn't yet tried to do anything besides the Squish, but he recalled the odd things he'd seen before and began to wonder what else he could do. After a few failed attempts, he confirmed heat vision was not in the cards. Was it the glasses?

As the days and weeks passed, he practiced "The Squish" whenever it was safe to do so: when he was alone in the school bathroom, when the Durselys locked the house door to force him to stay outside whenever the weekends weren't too cold, but especially when the Durselys left for the evening and locked him within his cupboard early for the night. He soon found out that Squishing was _loud_. At school, when he tried to Squish from the bathroom stall to outside of the stall, a teacher barged in a few seconds later saying they thought they heard a gunshot. After practicing during one of the Dursleys nightly outings for hours on end, he was finally able to get the sound down to small pop like a popped bubblegum bubble. This allowed him to practice the superpower at night, even when the Durselys were at home.

There was even one scary incident in mid-November where he Squished and left behind half of one of his toenails while practicing transporting to the rooftop at night. He realized he had to take it slow and really concentrate to bring all of himself along for the ride. By this point he was becoming comfortable with repeated Squishing, and his stomach didn't get nearly as upset as before, saving what precious little food he had for his sorry body's nourishment.

But it was over the course of February when he started hitting breakthroughs that made him think he could really escape. The first was the discovery that he could teleport to places he saw in photographs. He had been looking at pictures of the exhibits at the zoo in the brochures given out at school to announce an upcoming field trip. The snake exhibits in particular had caught his eye.

He found himself wishing he could go see the London Zoo like some other kids had as the beginning of spring began to eat away at the bitter winter in Surrey.

And then the thought occurred to him. " _Couldn't_ I go there?"

The Dursleys had gone to visit Vernon's sister, Marge, and had left Harry in the care of Mrs. Figg, the local crazy cat lady. Well, Harry wasn't sure if she was crazy but he figured you couldn't be quite normal owning that many cats…

Mrs. Figg had fallen asleep on the couch while watching the morning news, and Harry was close to doing it himself. Deciding to test his theory, he quietly made his way to the upstairs bathroom and closed and locked the door.

Harry took a deep breath and concentrated on the brochure's picture of the snake exhibits. He felt himself being Squished through the darkness and found himself outside of the Reptile House at the ZSL London Zoo. To his surprise, there was no one else near him in these early morning hours.

Deciding to have a bit of fun before he returned, Harry walked up to the nearest exhibit, one containing a Boa Constrictor. To Harry, the snake seemed rather sad being trapped by a large glass wall. He could empathize with the predicament.

" _Hey there_ ," he spoke to the glass sadly. " _It can't be fun in there. At least I get to go to school and outside sometimes._ "

The snake stretched its head up, looking almost curious to Harry's eyes.

" _You speak the Tongue? You must be a mage, friend._ "

Harry didn't know what the term meant. " _What's a mage? And what's the Tongue? I don't get it..._ "

" _It meansss you can do magic. The Tongue allowss you to speak to me and my serpent brethren,_ " the boa said simply.

Now that Harry thought about it, he _was_ talking to a snake. He could speak a whole other language and he didn't even know he was doing it! And magic? So he didn't have superpowers, he was…

" _Wait so you mean I'm a magician? Awesome!"_ he said ecstatically. It made perfect sense; no wonder all those weird things happened.

" _Indeed friend, something like that."_ The snake seemed to find what Harry said funny but he wouldn't say why. " _Now I've helped you, mind helping me too?"_ At that, he jabbed the glass container with his tail.

It took a moment, but Harry understood the request. " _You want out?"_ At the snakes nod, Harry replied, " _But how? I only know one magic trick right now. Well, I guess I could appear inside the glass and get you..."_

The boa began to shake its head, an odd sight to see. " _Make the glass disappear, make it turn into nothing."_

Harry mulled over the request for a moment. He wasn't sure how to do it. It had taken him awhile to get Squishing down, wouldn't hocus pocusing a pane of glass take too long to learn as well?

Figuring he owed the snake to at least try for helping him know what he was, Harry nodded and began to focus until he felt "the tug" once again. But this time, rather than try to appear somewhere else, he directed an outstretched hand at the glass in front of the Boa Constrictor and tried to tell it to go away.

To his surprise, after concentrating very hard "the tug" answered his request and the glass vanished from existence, fading away as if removed by some cosmic eraser. This sensation was quite strange, much different than when he Squished to another place. Instead of pulling himself somewhere else, it felt as if he were pushing out some indescribable part of himself into the world and issuing a command to _change_ something into something else. Once the change had occurred the part of himself that he had pushed out returned to him.

" _Thanks again friend. Brazil, here I come"_.

Despite what it said, Harry was pretty sure it wouldn't get to wherever "Brazil" was. Feeling quite proud of what he had learned and done that day, Harry quietly Squished back to the bathroom at Mrs. Figg's house. Unknown to the seven-year old, the boa constrictor caused quite the uproar once it entered populated parts of the zoo. Nor did he see that several individuals had "Squished" to the exhibit just a few moments after he had left...

Back at Mrs. Figg's, Harry's quiet Squish brought him back to the bathroom in an instant. Exiting the bathroom, he went downstairs and saw that Mrs. Figg was still asleep on the couch. Harry turned to look at the clock and saw that it had only been 20 minutes since he had left.

Smiling at what he had learned today, he began plotting his escape from the hellhole that was the Dursley residence. He had to to continue being careful; all the comics he read said bad things happened if anyone knew you had superpowers… or magic, whatever.

* * *

 **(Late May)**

Today was the day, Harry could feel it in his bones. Over the last couple of months he had carefully built up a stash of what he would need once he had left. He had read in a survival book in the library that honey never went bad, and that rice could last for a long time without spoiling. So he figured they would make good enough emergency foods if he was ever in a bad spot. But for more reliable sustenance, Harry planned to nick food and money with his magic. He knew it was a bad thing to steal and he really didn't like the idea. But as his choices were to suffer in silence with the Dursleys or take a bit here and there, well, he'd take his chances with a bit of thievery.

For storage, Harry had found one of Dudley's old backpacks from early in the school year. He eventually complained to Petunia and Vernon that the pack was "too small" for school. Dudley just wanted more space to sneak toys and such into school. As no one paid it any mind, Harry snuck the backpack from the back of the hall closet and stored it under a floorboard Harry had loosened from the ground using a bit of magic. It made a nice hidey-hole for what he would need soon.

A few pairs of clothing for various times of year were essential. This was the easiest bit. His Aunt Petunia was adamant that Harry only received Dudley's oversized hand-me-downs as his clothing, so there was a decent selection for him to choose from as Dudley blew through clothing nearly as quick as he did his toys. He had a few sets of pants, sweaters, a a large winter coat in addition to the clothing he had already been given.

He had even worked on a bit more magic while out and about on weekends, although it was harder than he expected. Magic was hard to control and hard to contain, and doing it more than a few times in succession made him feel a bit tired. He'd learned how to make a small fire and even how to create a puddle of water from his hands among other things. However, he noticed that if he made the magical effect too large, a group of adults in strange outfits would Squish nearby, as if they knew what he was doing but unable to find him. Luckily, Harry had gotten quite good at hiding. A few times he lured them out and Squished somewhere nearby to hide and watch them. Everytime he did it, they would show up and stop whatever magic he did and search for who had done it, at which point Harry would Squish back near Privet Drive. He soon noticed that they always used a sort of stick whenever they would use magic.

A _magic wand_ he soon realized. It was too bad he had no idea how to get one himself.

And today _was_ the day, as Harry knew it would be. Uncle Vernon was the director of a drill manufacturing company known as Grunnings, and had been boasting about some deal the company had made for weeks now. It must have been quite a big deal, as he soon announced to the household that they were having some sort of party at the office this very evening and were inviting their families. This left the Dursleys in predicament. Vernon's employees were told their children could accompany them, but thus far he had done everything he could to avoid mentioning the existence of his abnormal nephew. And with Mrs. Figg out of town on some sort of personal matter for a few days, the Dursleys seemed to have no choice but to bring Harry along.

Harry had seen the opportunity before him. "Uncle Vernon, please let me go. I'll be on my best behavior, honest. Nothing strange will happen."

And as Harry knew he would, Uncle Vernon immediately flew off the handle.

"COMPLETELY out of the question. My colleagues don't know you exist an I aim to keep it that way. We'll not have your unnaturalness ruin a good party. You'll eat a quick dinner and then off to your cupboard you'll go."

' _Perfect'_ , Harry thought, feeling a sort of giddiness that the Durselys would probably outlaw if they could manage it.

As 5 o' clock came around, the Durselys dressed to impress after feeding Harry a bit of dinner.

Vernon led Harry to his cupboard after letting him use the bathroom and said, "Alright boy. You'd better not get any funny ideas while we're gone. If I even suspect you broke the lock on your cupboard, you'll be in for the switching of your life. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry had to fight down a giggle at the sight of the man's twitching mouth. It made his mustache look like a furry animal was trying to vacate his face.

"Yes sir, Uncle Vernon," he said.

The cupboard was locked, the driveway was left, and Harry found himself alone in the house, his plan at the ready.

Harry gathered all of his stored things from beneath the floorboard. He double checked to make sure everything was there; luckily he had kept a notebook as he gathered everything. After storing it all in the bag, he glanced around his cupboard one last time before he Squished outside it and into the living room in a faint pop.

After grabbing a spare plastic bag from underneath the kitchen sink, Harry proceeded to raid the fridge and pantry of an assortment of foods and snacks the Dursleys had stored away. With a man as large as Vernon Dursely, and Dudley seeking to surpass his father, Harry wasn't exactly short on options where food was concerned.

With that done and stored in his backpack, a peculiar feeling arose within Harry. Despite having hated the place for as long as he could remember, part of him wondered if he _should_ be feeling something for the home he was leaving. But then the cumulative experiences and memories he had of the place hit him like a train and the feeling left him.

He walked right out the front door, turned around and felt for his magic. He turned it into a sort of _pushing_ force and blasted the door into the house, if only to annoy his so-called family. Sure, they might say it proved they were right about him all along but Harry was passed caring. He refused to be imprisoned with people who despised him for existing.

Speaking aloud at Number 4 Privet Drive for the last time, Harry said, "This place was never my home anyway."

Harry then took out a photo he had prepared for the occasion, focused on it and then Squished away, never to return there.

Little did Harry know the consequences his words and actions would have in the world he belonged to. The wards surrounding the property came crashing down abruptly, though this went completely unnoticed by the Muggles who could neither see nor detect the change. However, hundreds of miles away the change was caught my the magical monitoring equipment of a certain aged wizard.

* * *

 **(Hogwarts)**

Albus Dumbledore had been in the middle of written correspondence with the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, when various pieces of equipment monitoring the wards around residence of the young Harry Potter suddenly ceased functioning.

The change was noticeable due to the absence of the usual, constant noise the equipment filled the otherwise dead air with. Dumbledore rushed to the equipment, hoping it was just a glitch of some sort and would sort itself out momentarily.

But after running a few diagnostic spells he confirmed that the wards surrounding the Dursley property had indeed gone away. Given Lily's family had taken him in as a baby, Dumbledore doubted a boy as young as Harry could have undone the wards by declaring it no longer his home. As a result, he feared for the worst: The defenses must somehow have been breached by a subordinate of Voldermort's, if not the man himself given the overwhelming power that protected the place.

Summoning his phoenix Fawkes, Dumbledore had the amazing creature use its unique form of Apparition to teleport them from his office at Hogwarts to the Dursely's house. The sight before only seemed to confirm his greatest fear. The door had been knocked in from the _outside_ by magic, clearly a sign of attack.

Rushing inside with wand in hand, Dumbledore didn't know what to think. Aside from the damage done by the door being knocked into the living room, there didn't seem to be a sign of a struggle. Not even so much as a lamp had been knocked out of place. And given the intruder hadn't bother to restore the broken door, Dumbledore doubted they had undone the damage using magic.

After a quick detection spell to be sure, he determined that the only magic used had been on the door. And strangely enough, he couldn't unearth what spell had been used. Had Harry been intimidated into leaving after seeing the magic? And what of the Dursleys? Had they been taken as well?

There were too many unknowns, so Dumbledore decided he needed to summon some of the old crowd for a most crucial rescue mission.

Pulling out his communication mirror, Dumbledore setup a message that would be dispensed to the members of the old Order of the Phoenix. The Order had learned its lesson when the forces of Voldemort caught them unawares as they snaked their way into various high positions in society before striking. It wasn't a full time operation, but a number of members endeavored to keep abreast of things should Voldermort (or some other dark lord) make a play at power again.

"This is an emergency," Dumbledore spoke clearly into the mirror after setting it to the emergency call setting. "Harry Potter has been kidnapped by sources unknown, likely Death Eaters or their sympathizers. As soon as you receive this message, Apparate to my location." As the mirror allowed the user to see out the other person's mirror, it also functioned as a sort of beacon to allow others to Apparate to the location they saw through the mirrored image.

Dumbledore didn't need to wait long. About 30 seconds later, several figures began popping into the neighborhood. Acting quickly, Dumbledore grabbed what appeared to be a silver cigarette lighter and used its magical ability to remove the light sources surrounding them in the Muggle neighborhood. He then cast a charm to silence the area they were in to cover the entrance of the arriving Order members.

The first to arrive was the every-shabbily-dressed Remus Lupin, who began looking every which way, as if hoping to spot whoever had taken Harry. Next was his old friend, Alastor Moody, who immediately began his own observations with his magical right eye. Several others appeared, such as Kingsley Shacklebolt, with his deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall pulling up the rear.

"Albus, what have you learned?" Minerva asked quickly. It was a question everyone was dying to see answered.

"Just a few minutes ago, the devices I setup to monitor the wards defending Harry's home ceased, indicating that the protections here no longer held. I had Fawkes here Apparate me to determine the cause and found the front door had been shunted in by an unidentified spell," he summarized quickly while gesturing at the front door to his right. "There was no one in the house, and no sign of a struggle, and no sign of where Harry was taken."

Lupin looked frantic and no one questioned why. With James, Lily and Peter dead, and Sirius entombed within Azkaban prison for doing it, Harry was the only tie to his friends he had left.

"Do we have any leads? Anything at all?" Lupin asked through his ragged breaths.

Dumbledore's head dropped. "Nothing, I'm afraid. There was no magic used in the house besides the one I mentioned. No signs of Apparition nor of a Portkey having been used. Harry's muggle relatives don't appear to be around either, so they might all have been taken."

Moody coughed loudly into his hand to gather everyone's attention. "That's not quite Albus, although I'm not surprised you didn't spot it."

"What do you mean? What have you found?" Dumbledore asked.

Moody pointed behind the group toward the street where the Dursely driveway met the road. Dumbledore could see a slight warping of the space there, and understood what Moody had meant.

"It's hard to spot it without an eye like mine, but I can clearly see signs of Disapparition right over there. Whoever it was is long gone now," he growled.

This quieted the group for a moment before Kingsley spoke into the silence, "How did they breach the wards? It just seems inconceivable."

Deciding they had deliberated long enough, Dumbledore said "I don't know, perhaps they used a proxy to get passed the defenses, but that is irrelevant now. We need to find Harry and find him quickly. The wards only dropped minutes before I arrived. We need to split up and search for him."

"Have you got anything with Harry's sent, Albus? Perhaps my Animagus form can pick up his scent somewhere?" Minerva asked. When Dumbledore shook his head, Minerva quickly strode into the house to find an article of clothing to assist with the search. Meanwhile, Lupin, Shacklebolt, and Moody proceeded to Disapparate to various locations to search out the boy or any who might have seen him. Kingsley in particular went to search out his contacts in the Accidental Magic Reversal Department, figuring they might pick up Harry using magic somewhere if he became frightened by his capturers.

"Albus?" Minerva called out from the house. Dumbledore rushed inside, hoping she had spotted something he missed in his own rather cursory examination of the household. Upon re-entering, he spotted Mcgonagall standing in front of a small cupboard beneath the staircase of the Dursley residence.

"What have you found, Minerva?"

Minerva turned toward him with a confused look on her face. "What is this? Why are his school things and bedding in a cupboard?" Glancing into the cupboard in question, Dumbledore could see what McGonagall meant. The space was barely large enough for the boy to fit in, and had a number of spiders ambling about on the walls and ceilings. On the floor were a few school papers involving basic arithmetic, as well a comic book. Dumbledore's blood went cold at the realization.

"D-don't tell me," Minerva said. "Did they _room_ him in a bloody closet?"

Dumbledore had no response, given the obvious answer to the question. He only hoped it was a very temporary arrangement, perhaps one of the upstairs rooms had an infestation…

Before the two could look around any longer, they heard a car pulling into the driveway, followed by a shout after the occupants exited the car.

"What the hell is going on here?" shouted an enrage Vernon Dursley when he spotted his front door had been knocked in as if by a wrecking ball. When he saw the two remaining wizards in the house, wands out identifying them as such, he wasn't sure if he should lose his mind or keep quiet given their power over him.

McGonagall's expression turned fierce as she saw the man who was supposed to be raising the child of two of some of her favorite students.

"We should be asking you that question. You left Harry in the house alone and locked in a _cupboard_? Are you out of your minds?" she asked.

Vernon summoned courage even he didn't know he had as he responded, "We'll raise the boy any damn way we like. We swore we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense, we're not raising one of _you_ in our _normal_ household. Blasted troublemaker, he is."

Minerva just barely resisted hexing the man into oblivion when Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder which clearly said 'Calm down'.

"Mr. Dursely, is it? In your haste to attend whatever business you had tonight, you neglected to inform any of us that you would be gone," Dumbledore said. "I told Petunia years ago that she was to leave Harry in the care of Mrs. Figg when needed."

Puffing up his chest, Vernon said, "For your information, Mrs. Figg isn't in town at the moment. And would you kindly tell my why the _hell_ you broke our front door," he said angrily.

Dumbledore and McGonagall shared a look before Minerva said, "Harry was kidnapped about 15 to 20 minutes ago. The door was like this when we found it." Despite her words, Minerva was beginning to suspect a different series of events had occurred. From the cupboard used as a room to the way the Dursleys head of house made clear Harry was as unwelcome as could be, and wouldn't even say Harry's name. She had noticed that there was scarcely a sign in the house that a second boy lived there, not even being present in family photographs.

The only thing preventing her from outright believing her idea was that no seven-year old should be able to Apparate, let alone purposefully use their magic the way the state of the door indicated. Every wizarding child use magic accidentally from time to time, but this was nearly unprecedented if true.

Voicing her suspicions, McGonagall said in barely suppressed fury, "What did you do to that boy? Have you been laying your hands on him?"

As if to intimidate her, Vernon stepped into her personal space and said, "The boy got off easy as far as I'm concerned. Turning the teacher's wig blue? Regrowing hair after getting a decent haircut? No, I clearly wasn't hard enough on him."

And that did it for McGonagall. She brought her wand to them man and transfigured him into a great big pig. At the sight, the two Dursleys still in the care began to wail and cry at the sight of Vernon having been made into an animal.

"Minerva, was that necessary? Ugly as it was, this won't let us find whoever kidnapped Harry. We should get everything back in order and leave at once," Dumbledore said.

She rounded on Dumbledore and said, "I _told_ you Albus. I told you these were the worst sorts of Muggles imaginable. But you didn't listen. Don't you understand what you've done? What we've allowed to happen?"

"I don't understand what you're suggesti-" Dumbledore began.

"He's run away Albus. No one took him, he was escaping from these... these hateful monsters we left to raise him. That's why the wards fell. He left of his own free will," she said angrily at the realization that the boy might be hurt or worse out all alone in the world.

Dumbledore realized the implications of what McGonagall was saying. Then, the fading distortion of the Disapparition from before…

"It can't be..." he muttered. "A boy that age cannot Apparate. It takes months of practice at a minimum."

McGonagall shook her head and said, "It's the only explanation I can conceive that fits all the evidence. No signs of a struggle, clear magic use, a single Disapparition point and the disgusting treatment by these… _people_." After steadying her voice, McGonagall said, "We have to find him. He's not coming back here anymore Albus. Not so long as I have any say in the matter."

McGonagall walked back into the house and grabbed Harry's blanket so as to have a source of his scent. She then Disapparated to begin her own search, leaving Dumbledore to clean things up.

Dumbledore reverted the pig Dursleys back into Vernon, who nearly squealed like a pig before realizing he was a human again.

"You are to alert the Muggle authorities that your nephew has run away. I'll sort your house in order before I go," Dumbledore said with an uncharacteristic edge to his voice. "What you have done is unforgivable, but I'll leave it to your own authorities to sort out. And believe me, I'll know if you don't notify them."

With a casual flick of his wand, the Dursleys front door was reattached to its frame. He did not know what fate would befall the Dursleys once the police saw the conditions Harry was subjected to, but his empathy lay more with the child they neglected.

"Let us hope us hope I am not too late," Dumbledore muttered. He was certain that Harry was the one spoken of in Sybill's prophecy. With Voldemort still alive, in some form, somewhere in the world, Harry needed to be protected to ensure he had the best chance of coming out on top in the end.

* * *

 **(A/N):** So what did you think? Drop me a review on your thoughts and suggestions, and follow if you wouldn't mind! If you didn't see the tags, yes this will eventually be an H/Hr pairing~

So you'll have noticed the use of some strange terms, like "Squishing" and the like. Now the reason for this (temporary) oddity is that it just makes sense. In this fic, Harry is a kid who doesn't know about other wizards (aside from noticing some of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department guys), and so he doesn't know the correct terms for what he's doing. So to me, a kid would come up with s name based on how the thing made him feel. Since Apparition in canon is described as feeling like "being forced through a very tight rubber tube", I just came up with a name a kid might use to describe that. And if a kid was told he could do magic, wouldn't their natural response be to think they're a magician? xD

And since Harry in this fic will start off rather Riddle-like - in the sense of exploring what his powers can do, not become a dark psychopath - I thought it would be funny if he was convinced he had non-magic superpowers initially, and thus thought to seek out comic books for answers. Now I know some will say it was unbelievable that the boa constrictor at the zoo would know Harry is a wizard. Aside from being lazy and needing an excuse for him to try more magic (hehe), my defense for this point is that in canon the boa in question didn't need Harry to speak Parseltongue before he realized what Harry could do. He initiated contact by winking at Harry while he was watching the snake, which I will assume for this fic means he could tell Harry could do magic.

Anyway, going forward (if I continue this fic) Harry will start off trying to make it on the streets. This will necessitate him getting one more ability, one he didn't have in canon, for it to make sense to me. Hopefully it doesn't annoy people. I'll try to stagger and balance things out over time so he isn't some megawizard who can do anything because wish fulfillment. He'll get to Hogwarts not _too_ long from now. If you want me to continue this, **Favorite, Follow and Review** please!


	2. Chapter 2: Laying Down Roots

**(A/N):** Wow, I was pleasantly surprised by the positive feedback; over 140 follows on the first chapter (tough act to follow). So here comes the second chapter. **Review** to give me your thoughts, and if you enjoyed it, please **Follow and Favorite**!

Also, I'm looking for a Beta. A bit for spelling and grammar, but more so to, er, Britishize some of the dialogue and such. I'm just no good at it. :-(

Edit: Fixed some grammar and spelling mistakes. Also added a bit to make clear why Harry has a little... incident near the end when trying out a new power.

* * *

 **(2 weeks later, early June 1988)**

Over the past two weeks, Harry had begun to acclimate to his new environment - the district of Brixton in southern London - but he was running into a certain issue rather frequently. Thanks to a photograph of St Matthew's Church he sneakily tore out of a library book at school, he was able to Squish to the location a couple of weeks previously. When he had first arrived at the back of the then-empty church between a number of trees, he wasn't sure what to think of the building. It was made of some kind of funny white rock and had a number of columns running across the part of the building Harry appeared at. Some of his schoolmates had often spoke of going to church, but the Dursleys had never taken him to one. He wasn't even sure if they were part of the Church of England.

After sneaking around the church property to look for occupants and waiting until the the night had progressed a bit more, Harry had snuck into the church with the use of a couple of Squishes to get past gates and closed windows. Finally, after sneaking around in the darkened church for a few minutes, Harry was able to find a closet used to store a number of cleaning materials such as brooms, mops and a few different sprays. To prop up his head, Harry took out a few pairs of shirts and sweaters to mush together into a makeshift pillow, while Dudley's old, large winter coat served as his blanket. Many children would find the arrangement unbearable, but it wasn't much different than his bedding in his old cupboard.

If the Dursleys had given Harry one thing, it was the ability to wake up at the slightest bit of sound so that he could avoid increasing their… displeasure at his "rebel nature". Harry stirred at the sounds he heard outside. It sounded like quite a number people walking down the hall and talking animatedly about something or other; the sound was muffled. Not willing to take a chance at being caught, Harry quickly stowed away his clothing in his backpack and Squished back outside to the spot he appeared at the night previous.

Appearing outside, Harry could tell it was early in the morning, probably a little before 7 a.m. given the sun was just peeking over the horizon.

' _Let's get to work,'_ Harry thought. Ever since he had discovered photographs were enough to let him Squish to the place he saw, Harry had wanted to purchase a camera to make it easier to keep a log of places he could transport to when he needed to get moving in a hurry.

Spotting a store selling cameras after walking a few blocks. Given how early it was, Harry wasn't that surprised to see that it hadn't yet opened. Acting quickly, Harry ducked into a nearby alley and focused on the interior of the store.

When the compression he had long since gotten used to ended, Harry found himself in the semi-darkness of the closed establishment. It took a few moments, but he was able to find the Polaroids. With their capacity to make instant photographs (as touted on the store display next to the cameras), they were just the sort of thing Harry needed.

' _How am I going to hold all these photographs?'_ he thought, before spotting a stack of small photo albums down the aisle.

After placing the stolen goods in his backpack, Harry quickly teleported back to the alley and made his way to the streets proper, feeling pretty good about his plan so far.

It was only then that he found himself paralyzed. What was his plan? He had thought for so long about how to stay away from the Dursleys that he hadn't given much thought about what he would do once he had. It was one thing to wish to be free, but another thing entirely to know what to do with it. Freedom of choice was a pretty new concept to him, and it made him nervous about what to do. Now that he could stop and _look_ around, everything seemed so big, he was at a loss.

"Maybe I should get some food," he said. He hadn't eaten anything since the small dinner the Durselys had given him the night before. It took about 20 minutes of walking about aimlessly to find somewhere to take food from, but he managed to spot a small street that had a number of stands selling foods of all sorts out in the open. There were mostly fruits and vegetables stacked and displayed at the various stands, though a few had strange meats Harry had never eaten before.

Feeling an apple or two was in order, Harry weaved through the crowd of people at the marketplace until he found a decent hiding spot between a few trees off to the side. After making sure no one was watching him, Harry raised his right arm and directed it at a black container that had bunches of apples within it nearly spilling over the top. Harry took a few deep breaths and concentrated on two of the apples on top as he felt his magic come aid.

' _Come on, get those two apples, I'm starving…'_

Unfortunately for Harry, while the apples did fly toward him, they weren't doing so gracefully by any means and sped at him like a thrown dodgeball. The first smacked him in the forehead, which thankfully knocked him onto his back and allowed him to avoid the second apple from doing more damage.

Harry rubbed his head and groaned in irritation. "Why can't this magic stuff be easy?" he complained to no one in particular. He picked up the apples and began to eat one, much to the satisfaction of his grumbling stomach. However, he heard a familiar popping sound that made his hairs stand on end.

Looking toward the source of the sound, he spotted _them_ about 30 feet to the right in an empty alleyway. It was the strangely dressed people from before, the ones who would get rid of whatever magic he left out after practicing.

' _Oh come on, these guys are no fun at all,'_ Harry complained. Harry was about to Squish back to the church when he overheard a couple of the people dressed in strange uniforms speak to each other as they searched for him.

"Fan out and find the kid who used the Summoning Charm," one of them said to another.

Another replied, "Do you think it's the one Shacklebolt mentioned?"

The initial speaker shrugged his shoulders. "No clue, Kingsley was awful tight-lipped about who it was, he just told me that his mystery kid was the one leading Marcus's group on wild goose chases. Either way, someone underage was Summoning around here."

A third voice, a woman this time, said "Isn't it strange though? The Trace should pick up who it was, shouldn't it?"

"Not if it was Accidental Magic. The detection spell the Ministry uses to find accidental magic uses is less accurate and can't identify the user, since they aren't registered as magic done with wands is. All wands are registered with the Ministry, so we know who owns them and when underage magic is cast. Now enough dawdling, find them!" he commanded.

Harry had heard enough and quickly Squished to the church from earlier. After settling down on a nearby bench to continue eating his apple, Harry began to mull over what he had heard.

' _Those guys really are no-fun... like the No-Fun Police. But if they can Squish does that mean they're magic too? And they called my pulling magic a Summoning Ch...Charm?'_

Harry didn't know what a 'charm' was, but since those people could tell when he used too much magic, he realized he needed to be even more careful about using magic besides the Squish.

Over the next several days, Harry wandered around Brixton and occasionally nearby London districts to snap photographs of potential places to hide and sleep for the night, and stored them in his photo album. The church had become his go-to place to crash for the night, but his near run-in with those other magic-users made him feel like he should move on soon.

Harry (now sporting a hat) made his way through the market after nicking a banana and orange from an unsuspecting vendor for his breakfast. In the cool air of the Saturday morning, Harry decided to pass a bit of time watching people go about their business without a care in the world. Harry was particularly jealous as he saw kids out and about with their parents, chatting away with them, smiling and generally looking happy.

Harry hadn't felt such things in quite a while, even before leaving the Durselys. He didn't think he'd ever come to regret running away, and he still didn't, but he still yearned to be part of something like those kids were.

Not liking his current thoughts, Harry and began to walk around instead as he waited for the Tate Library to open its doors. He was gazing around at nothing in particular, thinking about this 'multiplication' thing he read about the other day, when he walked past a couple of policemen talking to one of the vendors at the market. But as he walked by, snippets of their conversation caught his attention.

"...run away. He's likely to be in a bad state, given he's been missing for a number of days now."

The officer showed the man what looked like a picture of someone on a piece of paper, though from behind the officer Harry couldn't make out of whom it was.

"Hm, I might have seen him somewhere, but I see so many faces it's hard to say. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help, I do hope you find him and return him home," the vendor said as he lay the picture down on his stand. "If I spot him I'll be sure to contact the police."

The policeman nodded and walked off to hand out more flyers. While the vendor began speaking to a customer who walked up to his stand, Harry snuck over to get a look at the flyer and froze.

It was a picture of _him_ on the flyer. It as his school photograph from the beginning of the school year. Harry hated the photo; being clothed in Dudley's oversized hand-me-downs made him look like a delinquent. Well, now he was a delinquent technically, but that's neither here nor there. The flyer noted the day he ran away, his identifying scar and the number to call if one had information relevant to the police relating to him.

Harry was beginning to sweat a bit, despite the early morning air. He refused to go back Durselys, there was not a chance he'd set foot in the same neighborhood again. He'd sooner starve than be thrown back into his cupboard again, not when he knew there was a whole world out there where he could just get away from it all, even if he was rather lonely.

As panic began to set in, Harry felt "the tug" again as his magic began to respond to his worsening state of mind. He didn't mean for it, but a strong gust of wind began blowing through the area, surprising many people given the relative lack of wind that morning.

Harry realized what he was doing and began to reign it in, figuring he might blow everything down of he didn't quit it. The deep breathing and closing of the eyes helped re-establish his control.

Just when the wind died down to normal, a voice called from behind him, "Hey kid, what are you doing out here by yourself?"

Harry turned and saw the policeman from before looking at him with an arched eyebrow. Harry was sure if he didn't have his hat on he would have been found out immediately.

"Oh, um, my parents are in the shop over there," he said while gesturing at the bookshop 20 feet to their right. "My mum let me wander around out front while they got their things."

Harry had practiced this lie after getting similar questions in previous days. He quickly realized people would know he should be in school if he walked around so much during what should be school time, so he began to come in the afternoons to arouse less suspicion.

The policeman seemed to doubt Harry's story and began to look down at one of his flyers. Harry noticed the look of recognition as he matched him with the photograph.

"Son, would you come with me for a moment? I need to show you something," he said in an offhand tone of voice.

But Harry wasn't a fool, he clearly recognized him. So Harry turned and ran as fast as he could, rounding the nearest corner of the building behind him. He heard the policeman make a sound of protest and beginning to give chase.

Harry was trying to picture a place to Squish to, but he was having a hard time focusing given the consequences of getting caught. He could feel his magic welling up within him again but he couldn't pay it any mind at present. He just needed to get away and find a way to hide.

After a having ducked through another alley, Harry leaned against the wall of the building and began to despair as he knew he wasn't fast enough to get away from the adult man chasing him. He prayed the policeman wouldn't find him. He didn't know what else to do besides focus on his magic as hard as he could to give him the answer to stop from being found out. Despite feeling a sort of popping sensation on his face and an odd warmth making its way through his body as his clothes felt snugger than usual, no answer came to him.

He could hear the policemen bounding down the alleyway toward him and prepared for the return to prison, but the policeman barely paid him any mind as he turned every which way as if he couldn't see him.

"Hey, have seen a kid who looks like this come through here?" he asked Harry and showed him the flyer with his image upon it.

Harry didn't dare to question his luck. "Um, no sir, I haven't seen anyone like that. I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

The man ran off to continue to search while looking frustrated at having come so close only to let him slip away somehow.

After the policemen had run out of the alley, Harry began to frown.

"How did he not know it was me? He just saw me a minute before," he muttered aloud, as if expecting someone to tell him the answer. Deciding that the warmth he felt must have done something, he put it on the back burner and decided to Squish somewhere else until he had calmed down from the excitement.

Harry appeared inside an abandoned dance studio a couple of miles from the Tate Library he had started visiting a few days ago. The place had been boarded up, so Harry had taken a photograph of it with his Polaroid. Inside, there was a large mirror spanning the entire main room of the abandoned building. As Harry walked by said mirror on his way to the bathroom, the sight he saw in the mirror nearly caused him to scream.

The image reflected in the mirror wasn't himself, but rather that of a boy quite a bit older and taller. He had neck-length blonde hair and a longer, more pronounced hook of a nose. Best of all, his scar had completely disappeared. Only his green eyes remained to convince him that he was seeing himself reflected.

After waving his arms around sporadically just to be sure, Harry accepted that he had somehow turned himself into a completely different person. His extra few inches in height explained by his clothes felt tighter on him.

"This must be why the policeman didn't know it was me. B-but how did I do it?"

He then recalled the warm sensation spreading through his body and the popping sensation he felt on his face when he was frightened of being caught earlier.

Having been tapping into his magic for months now since his first Squish, he knew magic had to be the cause. And so he concentrated until he felt his power within him. He then pictured his usual self within his mind's eye and tried to will himself back to normal.

And he hit dirt. The warmth and popping returned full force and Harry got to watch in fascination as his skin began to morph and alter until he blinked and found, well, himself standing there. His _real_ self that is.

Smiling broadly at his discovery, Harry said This so brilliant."

* * *

 **(Hogwarts, late July)**

Minerva McGonagall was, as she had been as of late, distracted and short-tempered. It was not uncommon to catch her staring out a nearby window and generally rather fidgety. For the students who had left for the summer holidays the month previous, her sudden change in behavior was a mystery. But for several members of the Hogwarts staff, it was difficult to blame her.

Although the news wasn't public, some members of the Hogwarts staff had been alerted that Harry Potter had done a runner back in late May. Once this information had been spread throughout the members of the Order, there was a near panic to find the boy before he was hurt in the Muggle world or captured by remnants of Voldemort's forces.

The Order's connections inside the Ministry of Magic - particularly among the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - was of particular use. Kingsley Shacklebolt was able to put the word out about an unspecified magical child who had run from an abusive Muggle home and was having issues with bouts of accidental magic in public places. Naturally the Accidental Magic Reversal Department pressed Shacklebolt for more specific information, such as the identity of the child. However, Kingsley had given Minister Fudge an overview of the situation, and so was allowed to handle the situation with enough secrecy to keep the runaway's identity unknown with the excuse that it was national security matter.

McGonagall had gone to her family manse in Caithness to try and take her mind of it all for a bit before rejoining the search. She had cast a Stasis Charm on the bed covers she had taken from Harry's cupboard so that the smell wouldn't dissipate. Thus far hadn't had success picking up his scent, but then she didn't know here Harry had Apparated to.

Ten minutes had passed after she sat down on recliner when a buzzing at her fireplace indicated someone was requesting entrance. The identification charm on the mantle flashed the name 'Albus Dumbledore' (mercifully not his entire name) and so she allowed him through.

Rather than come through, when the emerald flames sprang into existence, Dumbledore called out "Minerva, I have news. Come on through, the school is more secure."

Agreeing, McGonagall walked through the flames to Floo to the headmaster's office at the castle. The moment she came all the way through she said, "What has happened, Albus? Did they catch him?" she asked in a rush.

"Kingsley mirror-called me. The DMLE plants within the London police force caught wind of Harry. Apparently one of the Muggle law enforcement policemen ran into him in Brixton this morning, but he took off running."

McGonagall's brow scrunched together. "He escaped?"

Dumbledore nodded. "They don't know how he did it either. He rounded a corner and vanished. I presume it was Apparition, though the policeman in question didn't make mention of the typical cracking sound that accompanied Apparition." McGonagall found Dumbledore's frown at this information to be odd. It seemed less like a look of worry and more like a look of contemplation.

"Albus, if he can Apparate on command then how will we catch him? If he moves onto the continent we may never catch him. He may even splinch himself for Merlin's sake!"

McGonagall was becoming frantic again. Harry about been homeless for two months. Children who ran away from wizarding families were always either caught or they lost their lives tragically. But the added complexity brought on by Apparition being involved made capture the far less likely outcome. They couldn't very well set up anti-Apparition wards around the whole of Brixton.

Dumbledore knew he needed to get things settled quickly lest his deputy headmistress go hexing her way through southern London to find him.

"Minerva, there may be a way to an easier way of finding him if we consider who it is we're trying to return safe and sound," Dumbledore said in a placating tone of voice.

McGonagall looked at him questioningly.

"Consider that Harry is a child, nearly eight years of age. He won't have the tolerance to withstand repeated nights without adequate sleep…"

McGonagall caught his train of thought and said, "So if we restrict our searches to nighttime we can overcome the issue of catching him despite the Apparition. But surely such a simple tactic has been used by those in the DMLE?"

"Indeed it has, but this is where you have the advantage. Because Kingsley has had to keep strict information control on this case, he can't very well make a scene by requesting numerous Animagi to track Harry's scent. And now that we know Harry's general location...," Dumbledore said.

McGonagall understood the role she was being asked to fill, and she agreed to it immediately. Not only was she an Animagus with a heightened sense of smell, but her cat form also granted her very acute vision during the nighttime. And with McGonagall not having been an employee of the Ministry in decades, her joining the search wouldn't be noticed by parties interested in taking Harry for their own sordid reasons.

McGonagall turned and began to walk back towards Dumbledore's fireplace. But before she exited, she turned her head back at Dumbledore. "And Albus? About what I said before. When Harry is found, I'm taking custody of Harry like I should have done to begin with. James and Lily listed me as one of his allowed guardians should they have died in the War. I only allowed those horrid Muggles to take over because you swore those protections would keep him safe while he lived there."

Dumbledore inclined his head, knowing full well that Minerva was well within her rights to do so, and at this point he had little qualms with her taking over. He nodded in response to her statements as Minerva Flooed back to her dwelling. Dumbledore's thoughts were occupied with a different matter and their possible implications.

' _It's been two months since he ran away, so he must be stealing food and hiding in out of the way places in order to survive,'_ Dumbledore thought. Dumbledore was reading over all the information from the dossier Kingsley had given him that was relevant to this case.

' _From what Kingsley said, there had been a string of apparently accidental magic uses for months in various places around Little Whinging, where Harry lived. If he can Apparate properly, and if the damage he did to the front door is any indication, I very much doubt those were accidents at all.'_ After thinking about the some of the spells used in that period from October to May - the Water-Making Spell ( _Aguamenti_ ), the Fire-Making Spell ( _Incendio_ ) and the Levitation Charm being chief among them - he noticed a trend. The spells would be used once or twice, and the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were dispatched to handle the disturbance. However, they were never again brought to Little Whinging for the same spell once a new spell alerted them.

"So he had been testing his powers," Dumbledore said aloud. "And not just whatever struck his fancy, these are spells that would help him to survive in many different kinds of places. Fresh, clean water for thirst, fire for warmth, levitation to reach places… although Apparition serves that need better. Perhaps he finds it safer to use?"

It was clear to Dumbledore that Harry hadn't just run away without putting any thought into it. He had developed a foundation that would at least keep him alive. Even if the water conjured from _Aguamenti_ was not permanent, it only needed to last long enough to be absorbed into the body to prevent it from vanishing as conjured objects usually did after a certain amount of time.

The information in Kingsley's dossier was beginning to unsettle Dumbledore. The methodical exploration and development of magic by a child - without a wand, no less - was something he had only personally seen once before, and the previous example was both ironic and worrisome given the connection between the two. Dumbledore knew that the two used their magic in very different ways, but life on the streets could have a very negative impact on a person, especially a child.

"I can only pray he is nothing like you, Tom. I'd like to believe that Lily's sacrifice is proof enough that his fate will be different than yours."

* * *

 **(July 31st, 1988)**

An adult man in his early 30s briskly made his way down the sidewalk in the pleasantly cool evening of Brixton. The man carried himself with posture and body language of someone who took charge and got what he wanted. His shoulders were squared and his gait steady and deliberate. The overall picture was greatly assisted by the dark blue power suit the man wore, his neatly trimmed facial hair and short, tamed raven-black hair. The tan briefcase he had in tow cemented the image he intended to portray of a no-nonsense businessman having ended a trying day at work.

Harry quite liked using this 'Harold Porter' form he came up with. After learning about "The Pop" letting him become different people, Harry had spent several days watching various people to figure out what kind of people would let him move around without suspicion.

'Harold' was the easiest one to wrap his mind around, as his Uncle Vernon often wore suits to impress others. Harry had even taken a leaf out his pudgy uncle's book in regards to how 'Harold' carried himself. Vernon walked rather aggressively, back straightened, facing determinedly forward and with his fists clenched, so people tended not to bother him out in public of they could avoid it. Harry adopted a similar manner of walking to get equivalent results, though he hoped he came across less unhinged than his uncle did. The incident with the police the month before ground into Harry how important it was not to look out of place, and how even his own face could get him caught by total strangers. He couldn't stand it whenever he saw his face on flyers of lost children. It wasn't quite fame, but Harry thought he'd go mad if unknown people could recognize him at a glance. He was already rather shy before all of this, and he thanked whatever higher power would listen for letting him shape-shift to let him feel comfortable in someone else's skin from time to time.

On his way to his destination, Harry began thinking over his shapeshifting magic. He didn't know what to call it for awhile, he just called it "The Pop" at first because he felt a popping sensation whenever he changed. However, after consulting the sacred world of comic books again at a comic shop, a certain comic gave him the name to this newest power. Harry had taken on the look of a fairly unremarkable teenager with dark brown hair and entered the small store nervously, as he hadn't been using the power for very long at this point.

"Excuse me, sir," Harry had said the the man behind the register. It was a somewhat rotund ,young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties.

"'Ello kid. What can I do you for?" the man asked.

"Um, well, I'm looking for a comic… duh. I mean, I'm trying to find one where someone has a specific power," he said shyly. He didn't like to talk so much if he could avoid it, as it seemed like people could tell he didn't speak quite right for the age he looked like.

"What sort o' power? There's a million of 'em, so I'll more than likely have something that strikes your fancy."

"I'm not sure what the name of the power is. The ability to turn into someone else."

The employee nodded his head in understanding. "Ah, shapeshifting you mean. Yes, I've got just the series for you," he said before directing the shapeshifted Harry to a row of comics, a series Harry hadn't read before.

The man pulled out an older issue of the series and said, " _The Uncanny X-Men_. There are some shapeshifters in 'ere. The one you'll be looking for is Mystique, the one with the blue skin."

Harry purchased a few older issues of the series on the cheap and proceeded to a nearby park to read it to pass some time in the afternoon. This "Mystique" lady used her shapeshifting to impersonate people to steal and to escape from others by pretending to be someone well-known to those around her who wouldn't look out of place. Harry was just glad he didn't have to have blue skin. Although he figured he could make his skin blue if he was feeling _really_ adventurous, but he figured he didn't actually want to be Mystique herself.

Speaking of women, current Harry's stomach turned at the thought of what had happened when he turned into a woman once. At the time, he hadn't known if it would work, but since Mystique could do it he figured he should have no problem doing it too. Boy was he ever wrong.

After he had finished reading some of the _X-Men_ comics he purchased, Harry spent part of the day walking around Brixton as 'Harold' to see what sort of woman he should turn into. He thought he would just look for a woman who could get similar results to 'Harold' just in case he needed to be a girl for some reason. And besides, he was curious what it was like to be a girl. He spotted a woman giving her husband a hard time for some reason or other. The man seemed resigned to the treatment, as if there was nothing unexpected about it, and simply tried to placate his wife. She did seem rather irritated, if not angry.

' _Bingo, I'll try turning into her,'_ Harry thought. He proceeded to slip into the alley and then Squished to the top of the building beside him. Once ontop it and alone, Harry quickly switched into some adult-sized clothing and began to shape-shift into the woman he saw. He didn't just want to look like her, Harry wanted to _be_ her, to figure out how she got her husband to do whatever she said. He focused on her to make clear to his magic who he was trying to become. It was rather stranger than his usual body alterations. The increased height he was used to by then, but his hips began to widen more than when he was a grown man. He also noticed his chest was… growing? Whatever those things were that women kept under their shirts. And he didn't know what on earth was going on in his pants.

As the transformation finished he looked himself up and down. ' _So… this is really weird,'_ he thought. He still didn't understand how this lady had such a leash on her husband and was about to go look around a bit more when _it_ happened.

He started getting an awful awful cramp in nether regions. The burning and pinching down there was just about unbearable, almost as if he had been stabbed. He nearly wobbled and fell to his knees, scared at whatever was happening to him. His underwear felt wet and he didn't want to look and see why.

And then he realized he could just undo the shapeshift to stop whatever curse he had been hit with. As he undressed again, his new body puzzled him but he tried to ignore it as it was now returning to normal. He took out a pair of clothes from his briefcase he kept for when he was in the form of a teenage boy and donned it after his changes ended.

"Maybe I'll just stick to being a boy for now" he had concluded after noticing a fair amount of blood in the underwear he had been wearing.

In the present, 'Harold' snapped out-of his reverie as he reached his destination, the Ritzy Cinema. Pulling out some money he had pilfered from a local grocery store safe the night before, Harry said to the employee at the ticket booth, "I'd like one for _Superman IV_ at the 6 o'clock showing." After receiving his cinema ticket, Harry entered the cinema to go watch his film before heading to one of his hideouts to sleep. Although he didn't have much money besides what he would steal from the occasional business, Harry didn't mind also splurging on a large tub of popcorn and drink. After all, it was his 8th birthday.

...And later that night Harry walked out the cinema sorely disappointed. He couldn't believe a Superman movie would be so boring. "The comics are always better I guess..." he muttered.

As he proceeded down the street with a photo in hand to seek refuge and tuck in for the night, he didn't notice a cat wandering near the cinema in the night. The cat in question had its nose up in the air, sniffing out its evasive prey as the scent kept changing itself somehow.

' _How does he keep getting away?'_ McGonagall thought sadly.

* * *

 **(A/N):** Review, Follow and Favorite~

Sorry if this chapter wasn't as entertaining as the previous one. Next chapter will have a bit more action for Harry, he'll be making more direct use of his developing magic in certain conflicts he comes upon. Oh, and I _think_ Hermione should be appearing next chapter, but don't expect it to be too much just yet. It's more of teaser I guess (is that mean? xD)

I'm not entirely sure why I chose Brixton for the setting here. I've only been to the UK once (for a wedding, curse the jet lag and soreness from 2 trans-Atlantic flights...), so I'm not really familiar with it. Hopefully I was able to get by with Google and such without bungling things, hehe. However, Brixton does allow me to set up one potential conflict if I decide to (my outline of this bit was rather vague, curse my past self).

Also, McGonagall is going to start having some success next chapter, once she figures out that Harry has displayed Metamorphmagus abilities. Sorry if people don't like that I gave him this. I was hesitant to do it, because it seemed like a bit much. But otherwise I would find it too unbelievable that a kid could survive on the street alone, even with Apparition.


	3. Chapter 3: Investigation & Intrigue

**(A/N):** Sorry this is so late (over a month!). It was actually mostly completed like 2 weeks ago. But due to, yet again, some heavy issues and annoyances offline, I just couldn't focus on finishing this chapter until the other day. Hopefully this chapter doesn't come out too bad because of that (it's a bit longer than usual as well).

Also, to the 2 reviewers and half a dozen PMers who sent me messages about how I was "wrong" about how Metamorphmagus transformations work: This is an AU in many respects, so Metamorphmagus abilities work a little differently, but mostly the same except when used in a certain way. Tonks will explain it in a couple of chapters. But if you're interested, chapter two briefly indicates what the difference is.

Also I'd like to thank my new Beta, **Warryn** , for fixing the many errors in my initial draft of this chapter.

* * *

 **(October 13th, 1988, Noon)**

"Alright James, Cam and Mitch are in place. You ready?" the redheaded Gwen asked expectantly.

Harry nodded, to nab the goods with the level of professionalism his friends had gotten used to.

Which is to say, as soon as Cameron and Mitchell had stowed a couple of boxes of snack foods and drinks underneath their large coats, a teenaged-looking Harry concentrated on a shoulder-high stack of cans of food on the other side of the grocery shop. Harry felt for the response from his magic, indicated by a pleasant warmth and slight rumbling in his abdomen. Harry pulled back his right index finger, directed the feeling of his otherworldly power at a group of cans near the edge of the stack, and flicked his finger forward.

Harry had invoked his Pushing magic, and caused the targeted cans to be nudged out of the stack as if hit by an invisible hand, making the entire construction collapse. As the dozens of cans spilled out in every direction, Harry and his group walked out of the shop calmly while the store workers were distracted by the mess they'd left behind.

Once the four of them had exited the store and rounded the corner to hide in the alleyway the next street over from the Brixton Wholefoods they'd stolen from, Gwen began laughing and said "Whew - this magic business sure does make things easier James. These two were able to nick loads this time around."

"You could say I've got… the magic touch."

Gwen and Mitchell - the blonde teen - both groaned at the joke, while Cameron simply looked as if he hadn't understood the _attempted_ humor.

"Do us a favor and stick to the hocus-pocus, James. I know you're younger than you look, but the rest of us have known what a pun is for more than a couple o' weeks," Gwen said.

Mitchell nodded in agreement. "I'm the planning guy, you and Gwen are the distraction crew, and Cam is the comic relief. Acting outside our roles is just asking for trouble," he said sagely. For emphasis, he fixed Cameron with a raised eyebrow.

"Am I just a clown to all of you? How could you treat your friend with such callous disregard?" Cameron said in faux anger.

"Gwen says it's because you're too unliable and get them found out", Harry volunteered.

"It's un _re_ liable James; as often as you go to the library, we need to get you a dictionary," she said distractedly. "Cam _is_ unreliable and has a history of 'winging it' in the middle of a perfectly good operation, forcing us to make a run for it."

"Hey, come on, my plans aren't _that_ bad…" he grumbled.

"Last time you thought faking a seizure was a stroke of genius," Mitchell deadpanned. "I'm no expert but I doubt real seizures involve babbling lyrics from _New Order_ while you flail around on the ground."

Before the group of four could continue, the impending rain began coming down, promising to turn into a downpour in short order.

Mitchell quickly covered his neck-length hair with the hood of his coat and turned to Harry. "James, you think you could magick us back to base? I don't fancy trying to make it on foot in the rain while carrying all of this," he said while gesturing at what he and Cameron were carrying.

"Yea right Mitch, you just don't want to get your delicate hair soaked. You're such a girl," Cameron said cattily. The observation wasn't entirely without merit; Mitchell had a habit of stealing expensive bottles of shampoo from time to time.

"There's no need for this guys, I can get us back. Just put a hand on my shoulders and give me a bit."

The three did as he asked and waited as Harry closed his eyes and thought about the location he wished to Squish to. The four of them were holed up in a condemned apartment building near the southern limits of Brixton. Harry still wasn't used to transporting more people than himself this way, so he always took the safe route and waited until he was absolutely sure he could bring everyone along with him whole. After nearly a minute had passed, the foursome were sucked through the darkness and appeared at their base of operations in an instant.

Once the jump to their meager home was made, Harry collapsed on the floor of the first floor apartment the group had taken up residence in. Or to be specific, where Harry, Cameron and Mitchell stayed. Gwen picked an adjacent unit, citing "time away from you hooligans" as the reason. The apartment had three bedrooms and two bathrooms, so it was rather roomy, although the plumbing was no longer functional, so they tended to take care of their business elsewhere.

"Uhg, I hate Squishing all of us like that. It's really tiring," Harry complained in a muffled voice. "I don't think I can stomach any more of it today…"

"James, you've got to come up with a new name for that magic. You're making me uncomfortable saying you're 'squishing' me," Cameron said as he held his head in a bit of pain, dizzy from the teleportation.

Before Harry could ask what he meant, Gwen smacked Cam in the shoulder and said, "Don't talk like that around him. I am _not_ going to be the one to explain this to him - and let's be serious, you would poison his mind if you had to do it - especially not at his age."

As the two receded into their usual bickering, Harry left the living room for his room and grabbed some clothes from the closet for his regular, eight-year old self and began to shapeshift back to his real age.

Once complete, he sat on the ground to catch his breath. As much as he liked having a different body, spending more than a few hours in one that was different from his normal one left him feeling a bit disoriented and tired, and he had spent the last six or so hours looking twice his real age. Even still, Harry found looking at his real self in the mirror to be uncomfortable.

Harry walked back into the living room wearing a coat fit for his current size. He sat down on the floor to eat with his three friends as they binged on the food and drink they had gotten from a hard, hard five minutes of work. They had settled down in front of the small TV Harry had taken from an electronics store on the other side of town. The program was the one with that time-travelling doctor that bored Harry to sleep whenever he tried to join them.

The four of them were all, for one reason or another, runaways from their former homes. Gwen and Mitchell were both seventeen while Cameron was sixteen; Harry had tried to do the same when they found themselves all running out of a store with food in hand. It had only taken a few days before their growing suspicions with Harry's manner of speaking and his general lack of understanding were validated. They had found a sleeping James in his room... looking about half the age he claimed to be and in the clothes they had seen him wearing hanging off his smaller body. They were rather shocked initially, but then the potential benefits of having a wizard in their fold allowed them to calm down and get the whole story.

After a good ten minutes of silence from all besides the television, Cameron broke it, saying quietly "Do any of you ever, ya know, wonder if what we're doing is OK?" His eyes were focused on the ground.

Harry, Mitch and Gwen looked at each other briefly. Cameron had only run away from his father a month and a half ago; the thin scars on his arms and bruised neck didn't incline one to press him for details. He still had a hard time accepting the less moral aspects required to survive life on the streets, and he had yet to go a week without suffering doubts of varying degrees.

As their unofficial leader, Mitchell answered for the group. "We have to do whatever it takes to survive Cam. Unless you want to bunk at an orphanage, I think lifting some excess from a shop every few days is a lesser evil." Unconsciously, Mitch had been itching the lower left part of his stomach.

Gwen had told Harry in private of her and Mitch's experiences in foster homes and orphanages, so the silence that descended from the latter's response seemed unimpeachable. Harry's own experience with a family led him to nod his head at Mitchell's statement.

"Besides Cam, it's not like we'll have to do this forever…" Gwen said quietly.

Cameron lifted his head and glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, a silent gesture to explain.

"Mitch and I've been looking for actual jobs lately. We were hoping that once we had enough quid for a proper home that you two might come live with us."

Harry and Cameron looked at Gwen and Mitchell in surprise. The pair were holding hands and looking a little embarrassed at their hope being aired out in the open. It wasn't a secret that the two had been dating, though they usually liked to delude themselves into thinking they were discrete.

"I-I think I'd like that," Harry said while rubbing the back of his wild head of hair nervously.

Cameron agreed. "Hah, I suppose it wouldn't be much different than our current arrangement. Though at least we might have actual plumbing for once…"

While Cameron continued to wrestle with his doubts silently, Harry stood up and made for the exit, prompting Mitch to ask, "Where are you off to, James?"

"Ah, well, I found a magic place while you three were at the cinema yesterday - thanks for that by the way-"

Cameron interrupted, "You're too young to see horror films. It's Mitch and I who'd have to put up with any _Dream Demon_ -inspired nightmares, no thanks..." Cameron seemed rather offended at the idea that he wouldn't get his eight hours of sleep.

"Anyway, I was dressed up as 'Harold' to get around more easily and I spotted this weird sparkly dome thing. It was really odd, everyone near it ignored the thing and whenever someone almost touched it they were bent around it, if that makes sense," Harry explained. It was difficult to explain without seeing it and given the looks of bewilderment on the faces of his friends, he was sure his description wasn't the best.

Pressing on, he pulled out the photograph he'd previously placed in his coat pocket and said, "It gets even weirder though. I tried to take a photo of the place so I could check it out later, but…"

Harry held the photograph out for them to see and their confusion remained.

"But there's nothing odd here," Mitchell said. He was quite right. All that was present in the picture were a few office buildings, and the foot traffic at the park situated between them.

"I don't see a dome," Cameron stated. He tried squinting at the picture to make it appear, to no avail.

Harry nodded. "Exactly. I told you, no one else seemed to see it either, besides me. It's right in the middle of the park, but it didn't show up in the picture. I've got to see what's inside," he said with a bright smile.

Cameron was staring intently at the photo Harry had taken when he suddenly paled.

"Hold on. An invisible house that can't be seen or touched and doesn't show up in photographs… It can only mean one thing…" Cameron said in hushed tones.

He switched between glancing at each of his three friends. "A vampire lair," he said. A flash of lightning and a roar of thunder conveniently followed his conclusion for dramatic effect.

"Not a problem!" Harry said.

Harry could not refute Cameron's airtight logic, and so he did the next best thing. He moved to the bathroom and called on his shapeshifting magic to begin altering his appearance to that of a typical depiction of a vampire. His already pale skin didn't need much alteration, but he did get to morph his hair into a slicked back style. The next part was trickier. He repeatedly tried to lengthen and sharpen his canine teeth, but he kept making them too long and they would poke into the inside of his lips annoyingly.

After finally getting the length and positioning to be manageable, he went back to the three in the living room around and said, "Ta-da! I'll blend right in, don't you reckon?" He flashed his new set of teeth for clarification.

The three began to laugh in earnest at his plan to hide among the locals. Cameron calmed down first. "Somehow I doubt it's a den of vampires. Might be some weird government project or some such. I want to stop you from going, but I know you'll just magick yourself there once we've all fallen asleep. Seriously James, if it's dangerous there you need to pop back over here immediately."

"No need to worry. What's the worst that could happen?" Harry asked.

Gwen groaned in response. "You need to watch the telly more often. Anytime someone says that _everything_ goes wrong."

* * *

 **(Hogwarts, Midday)**

Minerva had taken her lunch break in the staff lounge after a trying class period. Transfiguration was ever her passion, and publishing the occasional piece of research in top European transfiguration journals was gratifying after all the hard work she put into attaining her Mastery in the field, but teaching was unwaveringly trying.

It almost didn't matter what year she was teaching. First years never failed to show great interest in the possibilities this branch of magic opened up to them. Their eyes were aglow for the initial few weeks, even if progress was difficult. But all too soon they would become frustrated at just how much practice and study was required to come to grips with the fundamentals alone.

And then there were her N.E.W.T. students. They were all competent, to be certain; she would accept no less for students seeking to progress beyond O.W.L. coursework. But sixth-year entailed covering Human Transfiguration, perhaps the most difficult branch of the discipline. Yes, transfiguration involved altering the properties of an object or creating objects with the desired attributes, but living beings are enormously complicated. Altering them in any substantial way was delicate work given how complex their underlying parts were evolved to be. Many a sixth-year felt as if they had gone back to first or second year once they moved to this level. Even amongst her own house - who tend to specialize in Human Transfiguration - success was fought for tooth and nail.

And naturally McGonagall had to have a student who managed to turn their work partner's hand to stone. He apparently had been grumbling about 'how hard this was' while spellcasting… McGonagall had untransfigured the hand once she heard the screaming student flailing about with her unmoving left hand.

But these events were to be expected, and having taught this course for decades now, they weren't really what had her feeling down. No, the blame for that was her lack of progress locating young Mr. Potter. He had been missing since June, and despite knowing his general location, she hadn't caught any more than the occasional scent diluted though it was. Whatever magic he was using, she knew he was altering his scent somehow.

Sighing, she muttered "If only it weren't the middle of the day or I might brought out the brandy..."

"Trouble with hooligans you call students, Minerva?" asked a voice from the doorway.

McGonagall opened her eyes to see her colleague, Severus Snape, at the doorway with his nose upturned and an arrogant sort of smile that could irritate like no other.

"Well you see Severus, not all of us seek to run out students who can manage the coursework, even if it can be… trying to get some to that point," she replied evenly.

The man snorted as he made his way to the seat opposite McGonagall after closing the door to the room. "I've never taken you to be the nurturing type. Are the years softening you after all?" he asked in a humorous sort of voice.

"In your dreams," she replied after rolling her eyes. After pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment, McGonagall said, "I've just been out of sorts since _he_ ran away from his aunt and uncle."

Snape raised an eyebrow. Before he continuing, he cast a quick _Homenum Revelio_ to ensure no one else was nearby. His previous work as a spy for and against the Order ground into him the necessity of ensuring security.

"So I'm too assume there have been no leads?" Snape asked quietly after his spell confirmed no other presences were near them. When he had first been made aware that Harry had run away, he made a snide remark about "Harry doing James one better" in the attention-seeking department. McGonagall's scathing reply regarding Harry's circumstances had shut Snape up rather quickly.

"I just don't know how he's doing it. I've scoured Brixton in my Animagus form for months. I've picked up his scent here and there but anytime I think I'm on to him his scent begins to dissipate before I can no longer find it," McGonagall said tiredly. "Initially, I thought it might have been his Apparition, scent trails end abruptly at the point of Disapparition. He must be changing his scent somehow, I can't think of anything else he might be doing."

Snape's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "How… odd. This is rather unlike accidental magic. And what eight-year old would think to change their scent routinely?" he asked more to himself than to the Transfiguration professor. He had been surprised enough to learn a child was Apparating around the Greater London area. But the notion that he repeatedly produced a magical means of changing his own scent seemed ridiculous given the fickle nature of accidental magic usage. But given the apparent abuse dealt by Lily's sister's family, he could understand the drive in the boy to develop his abilities as fast as he could.

Minerva broke Snape's contemplation, saying, "I think something else is going on here, and I've called one of the students in to assist me. The odds aren't in my favor, but it's the only idea I've got at the moment."

"Who did you send for, may I ask?"

A gentle knock on the door would soon answer Snape's question.

"Enter," McGonagall said loudly.

In walked a student Snape recognized as a fifth-year Hufflepuff. It was a young girl with bubblegum pink hair. Snape never understood the attraction of the hair color, nor how she maintained the coloration so well; it went down to the roots of the hair.

"Hello Nymphadora. Thanks for coming, I'll try not to take up too much of your time before you head off to Pomona's class," McGonagall said with a slight smirk.

"Wotcher, professor. I'll be glad to help out however I can", Tonks said pleasantly, managing to avoid sounding irritated by the use of her name.

Snape looked rather confused, so McGonagall continued. "Tonks, is it alright if I tell Severus here about your ability?"

Tonks shifted a bit uncomfortably before answering. "I-I guess so. I try not to advertise it if I can," she said in a quieter voice.

"You see Severus, Tonks here is a Metamorphmagus," McGonagall said. Tonks changed the color of her head to auburn briefly to emphasize McGonagall's words before returning it to pink. Snape's confusion quickly cleared, understanding McGonagall's train of thought. "Don't worry Tonks, neither of us will say anything about your gift to anyone else."

The young witch seemed relieved. "Would you mind letting me know what my ability is needed for?"

McGonagall hesitated for a few moments before she said, "I can't tell you everything at the moment, but I can say that we're trying to find someone. We've tried tracking them by their scent, but we've run into an issue where the scent changes too often. I suspect they're like you, but I need your help to check."

Tonks nodded. "Well, er, I've never thought about if my I smell changes when I shift," she said awkwardly.

McGonagall laughed a little. "Well, perhaps make the change a substantial one, just so we can be sure. Shift and then walk out of the office and I'll see if the scent change is like the one we've been looking for."

McGonagall transformed into a cat and got a whiff of Tonks's usual odor. Tonks them altered her appearance to give her a different face. Her nose was somewhat like a pigs nose, her face had become rounder than usual and her weight increased a bit as she widened. Her hair had remained the same pink as before.

Tonks walked out the staff room to give McGonagall room to check out how the old scent transitioned into the newer one. McGonagall had walked only a few feet before it became obvious to her that this was the answer to her dilemma. The way Tonks's original scent quickly transitioned into the newer one was exactly as the same as how Harry's scent had changed whenever she attempted to follow his scent to the source.

Quickly returning to human form, McGonagall ran up to Tonks (now returned to normal) and gave her an uncharacteristic hug in the corridor outside the staff room.

"Thank you so much, Tonks. It was exactly the same. Of course, we still have to catch them but this is a good first step," McGonagall said excitedly.

Tonks was a bit out of sorts, what with the usually stern professor being so happy. "Oh, it was no problem, professor," she replied after the brief hug. "Say, since I helped you, isn't that worth some House points?"

McGonagall looked at her for a moment, and considered docking a couple of points to keep her reputation. But she couldn't be harsh after Tonks had given her help freely.

"Oh why not. 20 points to Hufflepuff for selflessness… but if you don't get an _E_ on all your transfiguration work for the next two weeks you may find my sudden kindness slipping in the future," McGonagall said with a neutral face that masked her inner smile.

Tonks head drooped a bit despite the points. "Yes professor..." she muttered before she walked off to her next class.

As McGonagall walked back into the staffroom, Snape set down that day's edition of the _The Daily Prophet_ and asked, "From your, ah, positive reaction I take it you were correct about Potter being a Metamorphmagus?"

McGonagall nodded. "Yes, the scent transition was the same as Harry's. And with that we may just be able to come up with a way to find him." Having said that, she walked over to the handbag she had brought to the staffroom.

Snape was curious about the matter. "Just how did you suspect that Potter was a Metamorphmagus in the first place? The ability is ludicrously rare; Tonks was the first I'd seen in person. I would have expected a less exotic explanation."

Rather than answering verbally, McGonagall pulled out an old magazine cover. It was the 2579th edition of the scholarly journal, _Transfiguration Today_. The publication year of the edition she was back in 1926.

"I had seen Tonks's hair color briefly change the other day when she was frustrated in class and it reminded me of the possibility. And that led me to recalling a certain someone having written an article on the issue we're having," McGonagall said. She pointed to the bottom of the magazine cover.

'Is Vanishing Without a Trace Possible? My view on Metamorphmagus by new contributor, _Albus Dumbledore_ ', Snape read silently.

"Well I'll be…" Snape said in surprise.

"I only have one more class for the day, so I'll be informing Albus about this soon," McGonagall said. "As he wrote the article, he's sure to have insight on this problem, ironically enough."

Snape 'tsked' and said, "You may have to hold off on that until tonight, Minerva. The headmaster's schedule is likely to be quite busy during day times in the foreseeable future."

Snape handed McGonagall the newspaper he was reading and she glanced at the top headline of the day.

' _Goblins Get the Wand! Wizengamot Vote to Pass Bill lifting ban on Goblin wand ownership_ ,' the headline read.

McGonagall was rather surprised at the news. Dumbledore had been pushing for this for decades. It wasn't until goblin assistance was given in the last War that he had begun making any real progress beyond verbal support among other Wizengamot members. That Gringotts had also assisted in finding hidden Death Eaters by tracking suspicious monetary transactions only made it more difficult to justify the more than three-hundred year old legal ban, not to mention the even longer informal ban prior.

"This is quite shocking to say the least," McGonagall said. She read a bit further into the article before saying, "Can't say I'm shocked to see it was a near split vote down party and blood lines. All but but a handful of purebloods voted against passing the lift. A 28-to-25 pass with 4 abstentions."

Snape nodded. "You might be surprised to learn the Lucius was among the few purebloods who voted to pass it."

McGonagall gaped at Snape, a sight the man couldn't help but find quite humorous given her usual composure.

"Don't look so surprised," he said in amusement before she could reply. "Lucius works in both the Ministry and in the muggle House of Commons, so he's a master of reading the winds to gain an advantage. No doubt he caught word of the near unilateral support from the New Bloods and picked the side that would benefit his family most. And the goblins are notorious for remembering their friends as well as their enemies."

McGonagall lips thinned at Snape having a laugh at her reaction. "Still, I would expect one of his… station to be more averse to being level with goblins than he would be to growing his wealth," she said.

Snape shrugged. "I'm sure his unfortunate predicament in the last War left him feeling rather guilty. Siding with Dumbledore, in part, be his way of trying to rectify things in his own mind. Then again, Lucius does enjoy his affluency so I wouldn't discount that benefit."

McGonagall opened the full article on the history-making Wizengamot decision. Several of the so-called Sacred Twenty-eight were making moves to retaliate against court's ruling. Although this "esteemed" group held no greater formal power in the Wizengamot, they had long since successfully positioned themselves as the moral pillar of the wizarding community of the UK. Even McGonagall had to hand it to them, they were able to utilize the media to push their political agendas rather effectively and firmly establish themselves a dominant political force.

"They're pushing for a tax hike," Snape interrupted as McGonagall skimmed the article. "I'm sure the Goblin Liaison Office _does_ require greater funding now that wand possession is legal, but the level of increase seems suspect."

"It's certainly irritating, but a bit tame if it's intended to generate significant blowback."

"I expect most others in the Twenty-eight assumed the legislation was stillborn and so gave little consideration on what to do should it have passed. They'll no doubt draft further legislation to indirectly combat this in the coming weeks, hence Albus's attention must needs be focused on deflating whatever proposals they make."

"Even still," she said with a hint of finality, "Albus will undoubtedly have much to say about what we've learned. I'll meet you outside his office at half-past eight."

* * *

After walking for about a half hour in the strong rain, Harry had taken advantage of the brief lapse in rain to make his way across the street to the odd sight now before him. At the small park in between the three buildings, he found the sparkly object from before. He didn't know how to describe it very well. It resembled a large snow globe and was a little shorter in height the the office buildings surrounding it; everything around it - the ground, the sidewalks, the plant life - was curved around the thing unnaturally, as if the very air was being bent around the strange object.

The dome itself was whitish and bright, and the surface shifted around smoothly, as if it were a liquid. It was a transfixing sight to behold, a bit like a massive tank at an aquarium. The area inside only appeared to be as wide as a building, but the inside of the dome was obscured so he couldn't make out anything inside of it.

Harry had noticed the people and animals walking past the bubble dome were being warped around the structure whenever they walked into it. But the people didn't seem to notice it at all, they simply continued on as if nothing happened. Birds that flew towards it either skirted around it or popped to the other side of it and continued on their way. The closest thing he could compare to it was a game he played at an arcade once. Whenever the game character would walk off the side of the screen he would appear at the opposite side he came from. However, he noticed that every so often someone would walk into the dome rather than be transported around it and he couldn't see where they could have gone other than inside it.

' _Was Cameron right? Is that place… a vampire lair?'_ Harry gulped at that thought; it was a lot scarier to think about now that he could actually see for himself. He'd seen an old, cheesy Halloween film on the television recently and the vampires didn't have reflections in mirrors and such.

"Well, if vampires live here I better look the part," Harry said. He shifted his appearance back to the look he had done at the apartment, but he decided not to change his hair; slicked back hair just looked too silly.

Figuring that was the best he could do for the moment, Harry took a steadying breath and walked through the barrier. The moment he entered he gasped in shock.

"It's bigger on the inside?" he said in surprise.

From the outside, the dome couldn't have been any wider than the buildings that surrounded it, maybe 50 feet in width and length. But within the dome was, for all intents and purposes, a whole town unto itself. The town was, much like the dome containing it, circular and composed of a series of interconnected, concentric, circular streets that converged at the center of the town, where there seemed to be a number of food vendors and shops that Harry couldn't make out.

Off near the horizon of the placed seemed to be a few rocky outcroppings, but the several-story buildings of the town obscured all but the tops of them.

The street Harry walked into was mostly composed of what appeared to be a series of multistory apartment buildings. Harry proceeded to walk up the street, and found himself listening to a myriad of strange and bewildering conversations that the residents of the town were engaged in, some rather animatedly.

"I can' believe they're givin' the gobbies the wand," said a middle-aged man in an old bomber jacket. He was gesturing at a newspaper he was reading.

The younger man in a plaid sweater he was speaking to said, "Oh come on, there's no need for that. The goblins down at the mine are good people. This ain't history class no more, the rebellions didn't happen for nuthin'."

"Come off it, it's not like goblins even _need_ wands to do magic. I tell you, this is all political favor trading."

Harry didn't understand what they were talking about, but he heard them mention 'wands', which made him to remember the people who would Squish near him whenever he was practicing magic months back.

Just as Harry was beginning to put two-and-two together about what sort of place he was at, he saw a nearby elderly woman who had walked out of one of the buildings wave a stick she was holding and mutter a funny word. The rubbish she was pointing at vanished into nothingness.

Harry watched with widened eyes, recognizing it as the same sort of spell he used to free that snake at the London zoo to disappear the glass. But if it that was true then…

"This is a magic town!" Harry said excitedly, startling the woman he was standing near. Of course it was, how else could there be more room inside than the container outside. At the realization, Harry began to giggle at his assumption that it was the home of vampires and so undid the minor shapeshift before everyone there thought _he_ was a vampire.

Harry felt something entirely foreign to him after his time with the Dursleys, a sense that he had found a place to belong to. These people were just like him, they wouldn't see him as a freak if he asked to stay, right? But then he began to feel guilty, what with having already been offered a future home with Mitchell and Gwen.

Before he thought on it any more, Harry's stomach gave a pronounced rumbling from having walked most of the way to this place. Harry followed his natural inclination to search out a food stand or shop to pilfer from. Recalling that he had seen food stalls at the center of the pinwheel-shaped town, Harry happily jogged down the road toward the town center, at having come across this place.

Upon reaching the the town center, Harry crept to the side of what looked like a candy shop and began scoping out what target he could most easily steal a bit of food from. Besides the various shops that ringed the outside of the town center, there were at least ten stalls selling foods of various sorts. Most of the stands were run by somewhat older women, who seemed to be entertaining themselves through conversation with the numerous groups of families and friends milling about in the early afternoon hours.

One such food stall was selling fruits the likes of which Harry had never seen. There were trays of berries colored in exotic pinks and purples - and unless Harry was seeing things - some of them had alternating colors, making for quite the distracting sight as the pink and purple seemed to chased each other into and out of existence.

Harry briefly considered going for some other nearby food, but while a fresh, warm pie would go well with the chilled air, he doubted he could get away with an entire pie…

' _Oh well, those berries will be plenty good I bet,'_ Harry thought with a grin.

From his hiding place, Harry outstretched his left hand towards the mesmerizing berries and began invoking his "Gimme" magic as the woman was distracted by a man who had come up to her stall. It had taken a few weeks of practicing the magic carefully and at low levels to avoid the No-Fun Police, but he was confident that he could call nearby objects to him successfully as long as he activated the magic slowly. For whatever reason, if he tried to do so quickly the object would still fly at him uncontrollably.

Harry felt his magic begin to pull the berries to him to satisfy his hunger; the fruits began to wiggle as his magic took hold of them. But then everything began to go wrong. He felt "the tug" give a lurch as his magic failed to bring his target to him, making him somewhat queasy, not unlike how Squishing felt when he was just starting out. Then a klaxon-like sound began to blair repeatedly from Harry's position as if he were an oversized alarm bell; his ears did not appreciate it.

He knew he'd bungled it and so made an attempt to back away quickly, but the telltale cracking sound behind him made it all-too-clear he had been caught. Harry turned around and came face-to-face with the woman he had been trying to steal from. She seemed like a nice enough person; warm brown eyes, freckled, slightly wrinkled face and long, wavy brown hair stretching past her neck. However, she was looking at him with a bemused expression.

"Now what have we here? You set off the Anti-theft charm on my crazyberries?" she asked.

Harry gulped. Hoping to reduce whatever trouble he was in, Harry began, "I-I'm sorry. I was just hungry and my magic got away from me a bi-"

"Not to worry lad, not to worry. We all have trouble keeping the lid on our magic when we're young, you've just got to channel it into something silly and time wasting. Before you know it, you'll be off to school and it'll be reigned in right and proper," she said confidently.

"R-right. Well, I'll just be…" he said quietly, hoping he had gotten off scot-free.

"Hang on," she said. She was eyeing him up and down to try and see if she recognized him at all. "I've not seen you around town before. " As her eyes reached his hairline, she seemed to recognize something there but didn't comment on it for some reason.

' _Use what you've heard to make a believable story,'_ he thought. It was perhaps the most crucial lesson he had learned. Since he couldn't stay shapeshifted all day, he tried to keep his ear to the ground for stories he could repeat or modify to deflect suspicion for why someone as young as him was out and about by himself. And he didn't like the odd look she began giving him upon seeing his scar behind his long bangs.

"Well, you see, my dad is over talking to… to the goblins and he let me have a look around. We, er, we were just passing through town," he said in as calm a voice he could manage. "I'm James, James… Dursley."

"Then welcome to Galena, James. My name is Isabelle Gibbon. If you get lost just let me know and I'll get you where you need to go," she said in a pleasant tone.

Harry jumped at the opportunity to get away. "Well actually, I've gotten a bit mixed up in town. Could you point me back to where the goblins are? My dad will be worried if I'm away much longer."

"Just north of town at the mines." Isabelle pointed at the rocky formations in the distance behind her. "Be safe!"

Harry nodded and took off in a jog towards the mines the witch in town had indicated. They were just down a path leading away from town through a small wooded area. After a few minutes they came into view and Harry began to feel somewhat nervous upon seeing these 'goblin' people.

The mines were surrounded by many figures about the same height as Harry and their skin was about as fair as his own, but that's where the similarities ended. Many of them were balding which made their elongated, pointy ears all the more prominent as they scurried about the scaffolding and structures dotting the landscape. Their eyes were slanted and black, making them unsettling to look at from the trees Harry was hiding behind.

Harry might have let his nervousness at their appearance scare him off had he not seen what the goblins were doing. A group of ten or twelve goblins were being handed what looked like metal helmets and matching silvery armor from a goblin that was a head taller than the rest; they promptly placed the protective gear over their clothing. The group then walked toward a huge opening in the large rock plateaus Harry had seen from town, which Harry assumed was the opening to the mine Isabelle had mentioned back in Galena.

But Harry spotted an obvious problem. The mine entrance was blocked off by a massive boulder, perhaps 20-feet in height and a width exceeding the that of entryway to the mine. Despite the barrier to entry, three goblins from the group stepped forward a directed one hand each at the boulder.

Harry watched in fascination as the goblins let out a war cry and began to use magic to levitate the boulder away from the entrance before gently lowering it to the ground.

"How did they move something so big?" Harry asked with stars in his eyes. Harry had a moved a large truck before, but he could feel his magic straining at the weight. Even with three of them, he didn't know magic could lift something as tall as a house.

Quickly getting over his nervousness, Harry left his hiding place and ran after the goblins descending into the mine. Although seeing wasn't much of an issue because of the magical orbs the floated in the air abovr, Harry soon found himself lost amongst the numerous branching paths that he came across. It wasn't for long, however, as the guttural sounds made by the goblins led him to them in short order. Upon seeing the goblins at the of the pathway, Harry held back a ways so as to remain undiscovered.

Harry couldn't understand the language the short beings were speaking, but their goal became clear when several of the goblins directed their hands at a particular part of the mine wall and drained some sort of liquid substance from the wall at a rapid rate. It rather resembled water expelled from a firehouse given the speed with which the goblins removed it and directed it into a nearby piping entrance.

The process was apparently quite intensive given the growing perspiration and heaving breathing of the goblins doing the work. The dangers of their work revealed itself when the area they were in began to shake and dust and debris began peppering down from the ceiling.

When a large chunk of rock broke from the ceiling, two of the goblins not extracting the liquid from the walls yelled something unintelligible to Harry and used their magic to turn the sharp rock into dust, saving the lives of their fellows.

When Harry saw another chunk about to give way, he ran into the open to help them out as they didn't appear to see this new danger. When it broke free of the ceiling, Harry used his Pushing magic to deflect the falling stone into the wall, startling the goblins working. This resulted in the tremors increasing in intensity.

"Oops…"

The group spun around and spotted Harry, clearly shocked given their widening eyes.

"Urag, Gorlunk, Gatz, reinforce the area now!" shouted the mine foreman.

The three goblins he called out laid their hands in the ground and a pulse of lime green light went out from their hands and into the walls and ceiling. Whatever they did seemed successful as the shaking stopped, to the relief of the goblins working.

The goblin in charge walked over to Harry, armor clanking all the way, lifted Harry up by hood of his coat and walked Harry out of the mine's network of tunnels with his subordinates in tow. By the time they reached the surface, Harry was in tears due to realizing how much trouble he might be in. What with their razor-sharp teeth, he nearly panicked that they might want to eat him.

"Just what do you think you're doing, human? You nearly caused the place to cave in on us!" he growled. He unceremoniously dropped Harry onto his behind.

"I-I was just trying to help. The c-ceiling was coming down…" he said through the tears.

"And you didn't think we had it under control? The arrogance of some of you wand bearers never fails to amaze me. We've honed our craft across the centuries, and we certainly didn't need a child sent to assist with routine silver extraction," the goblin spat angrily.

"No one sent me, I came 'cause I heard someone say goblins could do magic without wands."

The goblin regarded him momentarily before responding, "And what's that got to do with me? Wanded magic not enough for you that you need to have what arts we created for yourself too? Forget it, your school's magic is all you'll be getting."

Harry wiped the tears from his face. "But I don't have a wand or a school, I just use my hands. Like you guys. I wanna know how to pick up big rocks and stuff," he said determinedly.

"How old are you?"

"Eight-years old."

The goblin stared at Harry in disbelief.

Thus far, his entourage had remained silent as they watched the exchange. However, one stepped forward and said "I believe he's telling the truth, Burmog. When I saw him in the mine, he had no wand in hand when he redirected that stone."

Burmog's stare turned into a frown at this. "A human Coarsecasting, and at his age? Ridiculous, unheard of even. I'll believe it when I see it with my own ey-"

A moderate wisp of red fire appeared above Harry's left hand, floating a foot above it.

"See? Told ya so," he said cheerily. "Now can you teach me magic or what?"

Burmog huffed before stubbornly saying, "Be that as it may, there's not a chance in hell I'm passing off goblin magical secrets to a human."

"So you're saying if I was like you guys you'd teach me?"

"Yea, whatever, it comes to the same thing. We goblins don't teach something for nothing and you've got nothing of equal value to trade so be on your way," Burmog said.

Rather than acquiesce, Harry set his shapeshifting magic to task to reshape his appearance. Other than the comparatively minor shift to look like a vampire, Harry hadn't changed into something besides other human beings before. He had tried turning into a dog before, but the change hadn't quite worked as one he had roughly gotten a dog's snout he felt ill and the transformation immediately broke.

The sensation of this change was rather different. He didn't feel sick as his eyes became slanted and black or when his teeth sharpened, nor even when his ears elongated. But as the change completed, there was the constant, slight headache he associated with staying transformed for too long.

Burmog was shocked at the sight before, but before he could say anything, his subordinates all began laughing themselves silly at the boy's cheek.

"Haha, we got ourselves a comedian boys!" said Urag.

"A bloody Metamorphmagus? Come on Burmog, that little number deserves a bit of concession don't it?" laughed Gatz.

Burmog sighed. "I hate this boy already. Inciting insubordination…"

Harry fell onto his back and let the transformation expire due to the strain of keeping it up. Luckily goblins seemed to be quite short so he hadn't ruined the clothes he was wearing.

"Well? Will you teach me?" Harry asked using the innocent face he had practiced as a means of distracting a middle aged woman he and his group of friends had stolen from once.

"Uhg, alright fine but if you're too irritating I'll gladly give you the boot."

"Alright!" Harry shouted. He jumped in excitement, but for some reason his magic saw fit to levitate him by the feet so he kept rising until he broke the tree line and had to grab a branch to anchor himself to terrafirma.

This time even Burmog laughed with his fellow goblins. None of them bothered to help Harry down from the tall tree.

"Be here by this Saturday at noon or the teaching is off," Burmog called from the base of the tree while the others set off back to the mine. "And shouldn't you get back to your parents? Surprised they let you anywhere near us."

Harry scuttled down the tree quickly. "I don't have parents, I live on the streets", he explained.

"Wait, you what? The town would never let an orphan live without a home..."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not from Galena, I just saw the entrance to town. I live in an abandoned building in Brixton with unmagic people," he said with a straight face, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Burmog was quiet for a solid thirty seconds as he considered his next question. " _Who_ are you?" he asked suspiciously. "You're real name, not whatever you use when transforming."

"My name is Harry, Harry Potter."

* * *

 **(Malfoy Manor, Evening)**

Lucius sat down in his study to contemplate his next course of action, with his wife following a few moments after. Narcissa had received an owl from Mrs. Gibbon over in Galena not thirty minutes ago with a startingly bit of news. Naturally, such a wild story had been immediately rejected by Lucius until Narcissa showed him the photograph Isabelle had taken of her memory of the scene via her penseive.

The resemblance to his late father was uncanny and the scar was visible enough to be unmistakable once you knew it was behind the boy's wild hair. And his height was about the same height as their Draco, perhaps a bit shorter.

"So Harry Potter is wandering near Galena unattended. This is a rather vexing situation then, isn't it?" he muttered quietly.

Narcissa sipped the tea she had brought with her. "How should we handle this, Lucius?"

"Many of my old 'friends' would pay top dollar for this information," he mused. Both occupants of the study knew Lucius had no intentions of following through with that idea. The vote he cast the night prior at the Wizengamot - in addition to his necessarily public denunciation of the Dark Lord years prior - had inclined most former Death Eaters to curse him on sight if they thought they could. Even with this information in hand, they would likely seek his death for his having taken a leaf out of Igor's book after the Dark Lord's fall. They had even needed to improve the wards over their manor due to the no less than eight attempted attacks on their household by former Death Eaters.

"I confess I'm at a loss, Narcissa. Something must be done of course, but I've no legal claim to the boy; our blood relation is quite distant," Lucius said, his eyes closed as he thought on the matter.

"Even given his grandmother Dorea being a Black by blood, my chances of taking guardianship are slim at best. And Dumbledore would nix whatever possibility remained, irrespective of our high regard in society," she said in response. "And as I do not know who James and Lily named as his other guardians with Sirius out of the picture, I'm not sure who he has been placed with."

' _Narcissa has the nearest blood claim to him that I can think of. Damn, no, Andromeda would have a better claim as her reputation is without reproach among Dumbledore's number is without reproach...'_ Lucius thought.

Then a wild, bizarre idea entered into Lucius's mind. It was as dangerous a path to take as one could think of, but the potential benefits - both in terms of political and social capital, not to mention intimidation - were enormous.

"Narcissa", he said to regain her attention after having gone silent for several minutes. "What do you say to an, er, Black Family reunion?" he asked tentatively, knowing her estrangement with many of her family members.

Narcissa regarded Lucius warily. "And why on earth would you ask such a thing?"

"The Blacks are one of the few families that could manage it, but perhaps if you could gather _thirteen_ our argument for taking custody of the boy would be rather more persuasive," he said.

"Y-you mean a family coven? That's a rather extreme suggestion. Getting enough female Blacks to agree notwithstanding, it will paint an even larger target on our backs," she said. Her disdain for Lucius's proposal need not be stated outright, it was self-evident.

"Even so, covens are given special legal protections given the legal precedents that transferred over from the old Wizard's Council. Throw in their ability to perform otherwise impossible magic through ancient rituals, I'd say the benefits more than justifies the risk," Lucius said. Admittedly, he was projecting more confidence in his plan than he felt it warranted, but he was under no illusion that it fooled his wife.

Narcissa gave an uncharacteristic groan before agreeing. "But don't get your hopes up. If by some miracle we get at least thirteen witches no further than 3 or 4 generations apart, that won't entail a successful bid for guardianship of Harry. Wills still dictate such matters and there's not a chance in hell the Wizengamot will allow such a legal precedent to be made, if only for fear of attempted copycats."

Lucius accepted her statement with a slight nod. "True, but we need not have direct guardianship. Only that the one who does is -coincidentally of course - a Black who will agree to join the coven your proposing."

"Fine, but Andromeda is still a bitch so you're coming along with me tomorrow to do most of the talking. I'd prefer to start with her first thing in the morning to get that unpleasantness over with…"

* * *

 **(A/N):** Phew, that's enough writing for now. I'm somewhat skeptical of the quality of this chapter. This but with the goblins felt a bit rushed but it was necessary for my overall intention with this story. And no, there will definitely not be the old "Gringotts knows everything" trope. Anyway, **please** Review and Favorite. I was rather pleased by the popularity and positive reception from the first two chapters. Keep it up!

I really wanted to do this coven thing for awhile. There seem to be so few stories with it. The main one - also the best one - is the popular "Reclamation of Black Magic" fanfic. And as great as that story is so far, I feel it skipped too much of what would be interesting to read about in regards to Harry Potter being raised by a coven of witches from the Black Family. The time skip to Hogwarts, the lack of exploration of the reaction to Harry bring a Parslemouth, not showing how the thirteen witches's respective personalities and parenting affecting Harry, etc. So that will be a plot point in my story that will have relevance, especially later on when he prophecy and Riddle's international political work (spoiler!) becomes relevant to the story. That latter point is also why I (perhaps unfortunately) ended up loading this chapter with more political themes and events than I initially thought I would. Not all of the "Sacred Twenty-eight" are members of the Wizengamot (since some of the lines aren't around (like the Gaunts, Riddle aside).

Yes I made Dorea Harry's grandmother (and Charlus his grandfather) to tie him to the Blacks. Yes I'm aware this is not the canon family tree. Story intentions aside, Dorea and Charlus are just cooler names than those of his actual grandparents.

I'm certain my description of how the town of Galena is hidden in Brixton was confusing. If you've seen the 'Order of the Phoenix' movie, recall how the Grimmauld Place seemed to expand the space between houses without the surrounding people noticing. Like that, but basically it's a magically extended space that non-magical beings cannot see nor enter on their own. They're magically warded from entering the barrier separating the towns and such towns even have a Muggle repelling charm so they're inclined to stay away regardless. It's not exactly the Undetectable Extension Charm, but it's a similar bit of magic. I have a name for it but this author's note is long enough as it is.

Thanks for reading, see you next time (and hopefully sooner so long as life cools down for me soon)!


	4. Chapter 4: Chasing Obscurity

So, this is probably the most important chapter of this story. Important in terms of setting up Harry's future character motivations, some more of the political stuff and progressing the story away from this runaway stuff.

*Gulp* No pressure or anything…

* * *

 **(November 11th, Galena Outskirts)**

"Infuse, now!" shouted Burmog.

Harry grit his sharpened teeth as he focused everything he had on moving the 10-foot tall boulder. He channeled his magic into the boulder before him until it almost felt like an extension of himself. Burmog's first lesson had been to emphasize the necessity of 'infusing' your magic into an object in order to make more powerful effects easier to perform.

After five or so seconds he could tell he had reached that point and urged his magic to lift the rock a foot off the ground. He only managed to hold it aloft for a good twenty seconds before the strain on his magic became too much and he dropped it with a dull thud in a clearing. Harry fell to the ground, not because he was physically tired, but using magic this way left him mentally drained from having repeated this exercise for the better part of the last three hours. All things considered, it was rather like a bad migraine.

"Not bad, Potter. You've about reached the level of a six-year old goblin," Burmog said.

"Gee, thanks…" Harry muttered.

In the first week of his practice with Burmog, he had barely managed to make the stone budge. Now nearly a month later he _did_ feel he was improving, but Burmog wasn't a fan of plain old praise. He much preferred to kick him while he was down, a trait that annoyingly reminded him of Dudley. It didn't help that they would occasionally play a goblin version of hide-and-seek that was a bit too similar to 'Harry-Hunting'. What was worse about this was Burmog sprung a new stipulation on Harry before he would start teaching him. There would be no teaching unless Harry looked the part, meaning he had to shapeshift into a goblin while he was taught.

"Alright, that's 'nuff being a layabout. It's time to work on fortification magic," he said with a wide smile, or what Harry supposed must be the goblin-equivalent of one. The pointed teeth and slanted eyes made for a nasty expression.

"Uhg, I hate this one," he mumbled.

Unfortunately, goblin hearing allowed Burmog to pick up what he said.

"Don' matter. If you want me to teach you magic you'll learn it the goblin way and be thankful for the honor of it." It was a common back-and-forth between them. "Learn by doing I always say."

Fortification magic was the spell combination the goblins used to stabilize mine shafts that became unsafe. It involved applying a Sticking Charm to the unstable rock and then casting a Gorgon Curse onto the rock that had been stuck together. Given goblin mining involved magically pulling various metals and minerals from the mines, they couldn't very well cast the charms before they removed the desired material. The magical mines they extracted from sprouted new ore veins in different locations every few days so there wasn't anything to be done.

As if on cue, the goblins Gorlunk and Gatz walked into the clearing of the forest outside of Galena that Harry was learning at.

"Is Potty ready for his thrashing?" Gatz said happily.

"Just look at 'im. He's so excited by the prospect he's positively outta breath," Gorlunk answered.

Gatz placed both hands the ground and transformed the dirt around Harry into a pit of sand. Gorlunk followed suit and raised surrounding Harry until he was barred from escape by the four tree-high sand walls the goblin erected to block him in.

Atop the structure with his legs over the side was their group's leader, Burmog, who levitated himself to the top to watch Harry as usual.

" _Begin_!" he shouted in Gobbledygook to his subordinates and to Harry.

At Burmog's command, the two other goblins began to encircle the sand while sending out Gouging Hexes at random portions of the walls to blow out sand on top of Harry. Harry's objective was to last for a full five minutes without allowing the sand to reach his waist by levitating the falling sand into an open portion of the wall and then use the Sticking Charm to bind the clump to one of the sand walls.

As the sand began to pour down upon him, Harry had a vision of himself with sand up to his neck, as if he were a very confused ostrich…

While the Potter boy was engaged in his speed trial, a third goblin came up behind Burmog to ask a sate his curiosity.

"I'm all for keeping a kid's nose to the grindstone Burmog, but don't you think you're being a bit too tough on him?" Urag asked.

The mine foreman snorted at the question. "If he had been anyone else, I might've agreed with you. Hell, I wouldn't have believed him if I hadn't slipped some Veritaserum into the water we gave him afterwards. Being a Metamorphmagus made things tricky, but there's not a child alive who could learn any serious Occlumency."

"So, what, he's Harry Potter so we gotta give 'im what he wants? Ain't that at odds with tearing down his confidence?"

"Hardly," Burmog responded. "No, I'm being hard on him because the way he's learned magic so far has made misled him about about it."

"How d'you figure? From his story he worked pretty hard to pick up what he has," Urag replied.

"He thinks it's too easy, Urag. Since his life and freedom depended on him learning it, Coarsecasting became second nature to him. From what I could gather the only spell he had any real trouble with was Apparition, and even then that might've been 'cause he was scared of splinching himself or getting caught. When something becomes that intuitive it's intensely difficult to shake one's perception of it."

Burmog folded his arms as he watched Harry having difficulty keeping up with Gatz & Gorlunk's Gouging Charms. "If he doesn't develop a proper respect for how hard magic is, he might not keep trying to better himself on account of assuming it's easy to do. If you can do it all, why bother?"

"Eh, but there's plenty of arrogance among wand bearers. Why's he gotta have special attention paid to humble him?" Urag inquired in annoyance. Urag didn't dislike the Potter boy, but he was uncomfortable treating him as a goblin without good reason. Goblins and humans had shaky relations for most of recorded history, going against the grain in this way almost felt like an admission of inferiority.

"Because he's got a bloody Dark Lord out for him," Burmog hissed. "One who, I might remind you, didn't give two shits about murdering friends of mine in Nottingham."

Urag shut his mouth at this. ' _How could I have forgotten about that. Damn…'_ he thought. Burmog had been driven to heavy drinking for weeks when he got the news that his oldest friend had been killed along with his wife and children.

"There's not a chance in hell You-Know-Who won't be out for revenge once he slithers back to prominence; they never did find his body. I don't have the magical know-how to prepare him for that confrontation, but I can at least set him up to save our necks again," he said grimly.

Urag grunted in agreement. "You gonna inform anyone about where he is?"

Burmog shook his head. "Someone's bound to notice he's missing eventually, I'll point 'em in the right direction when they do."

Harry, meanwhile, was having the time of his life. This was the one place where he could really let loose with his magic and feel like he wasn't keeping a part of him suppressed. For whatever, the No-Fun Police didn't come to bother him even when he user lots of magic in Galena. He had thought about asking Burmog why, but thought better of it. No sense in spoiling a good thing.

The two goblins blasted out chunks of sand from two opposing walls simultaneously. Harry pointed a hand at each scattering of sand separately and magically stuck together as much of it as he could, though a fair amount of the stuff ended up on his hair and face. Replacing it in the wall was a much trickier task. If he made the magic too strong, larger chunks of sand would be dislodged once that area was blasted inwards again. But if it was too weak, the Sticking Charm would fail completely, quickly filling up the pit he was in. And all the while, Gorlunk and Gatz would periodically add more work to do, so he couldn't stay preoccupied with single sections for too long.

This process continued for what seemed like ages to Harry before four holes appeared unexpectedly, one on each wall; Harry knew he'd lost immediately, he just wasn't fast enough.

Gatz and Gorlunk lowered the rest sand tomb that blocked Harry in, revealing the boy to have transformed back into a human and fallen on his behind. The sand covered his entire torso, so Burmog wasn't surprised the boy looked irritated with sand bothering his unmentionables.

Between the loud guffaws of he and his fellow goblins, Burmog said to Urag "And having the Boy-Who-Lived owe you a favor ain't a bad deal!"

Harry glared at them. "You guys are meanies."

"Yea well, the world ain't nice kid. Might as well toughen up with us and learn that now," Gatz said. "Stick with us and you'll at least have a shot at makin' it."

Harry contemplated what the goblin said for a few moments before letting loose a jet of water from his hand. The water hit Gatz in the head, knocking him onto his own backside.

"Thanks for the pep talk," Harry said happily. Harry might have been annoyed at having failed to pass these goblin rites of passage, but success seemed inevitable. Magic just made sense to him in a way that he couldn't describe.

' _And if Burmog is right that some loony Voldy-whatsit is after me, I need be really really brilliant at magic,'_ Harry thought excitedly.

While Harry and Gatz began to wrestle in the clearing for their respective payback, none noticed their Disillusioned onlooker and the cruel smile his face after he spotted Harry from the dense trees that surrounded them.

* * *

 **(November 17th, Ministry of Magic, Dept. Of Magical Education)**

Narcissa had spent a considerable portion of her day dealing with the complications relating to a whole different species seeking to attend existing human magical education centers. She was not a member of the department herself, but as a member of the Hogwarts's Board of Governors she was often called upon when various policy issues were pending. Yet, she had also managed to get another witch to agree to Lucius's proposal over lunch.

Talking of the devil, Lucius approached her briskly as she walked out the doors to the department.

"Any luck persuading Amelia?" he asked anxiously as they entered the empty lift. Amelia Bones was a witch of extraordinary power, one Lucius recalled even the Dark Lord having respect for. Her presence among the members of the coven and her position so the head of the DMLE would be an tremendous boon. But equally so, she'd make for dreadful opposition.

"She was not difficult to reason with, unsurprisingly. Most of her father's family and both of her siblings were wiped out by the Dark Lord's forces. She knows better than anyone how vulnerable we all are," Narcissa replied. "And I confess, I made liberal mention of young Susan, though in hindsight that could have backfired. You know how _proud_ she can be." Lucius nodded in obvious relief.

"Cedrella has agreed to join the family coven as well. She'd rather not lose any more family the way she did Fabian and Gideon," Lucius said. He nervously glanced at his wife before venturing onward. "Has Andromeda replied to any of your letters? It's been weeks now."

Narcissa let out an exaggerated sigh. "If she had I wouldn't still be nervous about this scheme of yours panning out," she said angrily. "I doubt she'll ever forgive me for laying into her for marrying that Muggleborn, Tonks. I'm shocked she hasn't replied with a Howler, at the very least."

As they exited the lift into the Ministry atrium, Lucius volunteered a solution. "Perhaps allow me to make the arrangements then. We've not really spoken, but Edward doesn't strike me as the type who wishes his wife to remain estranged with her sister, if at all possible."

"Do you think it will do any good?" Narcissa asked wistfully as the two proceeded to Floo back to Malfoy Manor. "I can't stand these walls we've put between us…"

Upon their arrival, Lucius answered, "Well I may need to risk dropping Harry's name to get the ball rolling with Edward. No matter what bad blood may remain between us, Andy isn't the type to wish to leave him without a safe home."

 **(2 Days Later, Tonks residence)**

Andromeda Tonks sat across the table from her younger sister and brother-in-law with her jaw clenched as she stared down Narcissa, who seemed to be doing her level best to keep a neutral expression. Lucius has attempted to start a conversation with pleasantries and broad questions to give the Black sisters something to build off of. The room quickly went quiet as Andromeda seemed to adamantly refuse to engage with Narcissa.

' _If she thinks I'm just going to forget it all she has another thing coming.'_ Andromeda's anger was building to a breaking point just sitting across from her sister.

Edward "Ted" Tonks return to the table with the tea he had left to retrieve for the four occupants. No one made a move to drink any, however.

' _Hm, maybe I should have brought out the wine instead'_ Ted thought. _A bit of alcohol might loosen things up a bit…'_

Realizing they were wasting time, Lucius progressed his efforts beyond small talk. "Andy, listen, we obviously didn't come to dilly-dally. We've come to request your assistance with an urgent matter."

Andromeda replied, "Thanks Lucius, I'm well aware this isn't a social call. What I'm not aware of is why you two believe I would ever want to assist you."

"Andy, I know what I said was off-base but-" Narcissa began.

" _Off-base?!_ You called my marriage to Ted a 'disgusting watering down of noble blood'. You didn't show the least bit of contrition after Nymphadora was born either. So why in Morgana's name should I not hex you until you leave my house in painful boils?" she asked fiercely.

"I-"

"What could have changed that you think would incline me in the slightest to help you?" she continued.

"I became a mother and my son isn't safe!" Narcissa cried out.

"Do you have any idea- what?" she said uncertainly.

Narcissa took a steadying breath before answering. "It's not a story that would make the front page of the _Prophet_ since there's no visible damage, but the Manor has been attacked several times over the last seven years. Do you think we would be fine after Lucius gave up names to Crouch? The wards protecting the Manor are strong but the attackers are getting bolder."

Andromeda looked uncomfortable and more subdued than moments before.

"Did you know Lucius had to request a dedicated Hit Wizard to watch over Draco while he's at primary school? Just the other day there was an unknown wizard caught trying get to our boy at his school," she said, nearly hysterical as she recalled Lucius informing her about the incident earlier that week.

"Cissa, I'm sorry. I wasn't-"

"I'm not saying Lucius and I don't get anything out of asking for your help. But our primary concern is our family."

Andromeda breathed in and out slowly for several moments before responding. "I'll hear you out but I'm not guaranteeing anything until I know more."

Narcissa nodded. "We wish to make a Covenant with Morgana to call upon her protection."

"...You mean to establish a family coven?" she said in bewilderment. "Is that really necessary? It could go horribly wrong."

"I wasn't sold on it at first either, but Lucius convinced me. There's more than just the immediate well-being of our Draco to think about. Did Ted tell you what one of Lucius's contacts informed us?"

Andromeda eyed Ted briefly, who had been watching the exchange as one might watch an impending car crash. A terrible sight, yes, but one you just can't tear your eyes from. Ted just sipped his team and gestured to Narcissa to continue.

"We learned that one Harry Potter has been living on the streets in Brixton."

She might as well have dropped bomb given the sputtering fish-out-of-water expression Andromeda's face broke into.

"Wait, _the_ Harry Potter? Are you sure?" she asked.

Narcissa pulled out a photo and laid it before her older sister. "Isabelle Gibbon sent this along with the letter she sent me. She spoke to Harry in Galena last month, he was going under a false name. Lucius had some of his underlings at the Intelligence and Security Committee look into it. The surname he gave matched that of a Muggle family who were his legal guardians." She paused for a moment. "He's been missing since June, according to Muggle records."

"What's being done about this?" Andromeda asked. "Surely Dumbledore is…"

Lucius reentered the conversation at this point. "Oh I'm certain Dumbledore is _trying_ to get the boy back quietly. The problem is he was just begging for this to happen when he put a boy who miraculously vanquished a Dark Lord into the hands of Muggles who were abusing him," he said nastily.

Andromeda's expression became fierce at this, prompting Lucius to elaborate.

"Based on the information I was given, these _Dursleys_ \- while being Lily Potter's remaining muggle relatives - had the boy locked in a cupboard and half starved. When they were forced to report the boy's disappearance, an investigation turned all this up. They were soon declared unfit parents and lost custody of their own child as well. Dumbledore put him there, and as far as I can tell, made no effort to check up on him over the years."

"OK, I can see your point. But why go to the bother of a family coven. Surely Narcissa could petition to become Harry's guardian and place a Fidelius to shield you?"

"How did that work out for the Potters?" Lucius asked bluntly. "The Fidelius provides an unparalleled protection, I will grant you that," Lucius said. "And yes, you cannot magically force or trick the Keeper into giving the Secret up. But it has one major flaw, as the Dark Lord proved. It is only strong if you can guarantee your Secret-Keeper won't give you up voluntarily. It can be as simple as threatening someone your Keeper loves and they'll hand you over nearly every time. After all, how many people would pick their friends lives, even the best of friends, over their family's?"

Andromeda's eyes widened and began looking rather distraught. "A-are you saying that's what happened with Sirius? That You-Know-Who threatened to hurt me and Nymphadora to force his hand?"

"Who's to say. Save for the Dark Lord himself, no Death Eater knew all of our number. I can only say _I_ never caught wind that Sirius was a member and he never seemed the type," Lucius explained. "Once the Dark Lord returns we'll need every advantage we can. His influence continues to expand in several foreign countries despite his incapacitation, though I know not how."

"Even so, Dumbledore can call on the Order again. They're prepared this time should he come bac-" she began.

Lucius knew it was time to press his advantage to make Andromeda see sense.

"Andy, look. I may have been Imperiused at the time, but I wasn't blind. The Order wasn't prepared last time and they won't be this time, not at the scale they would need to be," he said with a slight edge to his voice as he recalled the years he spent under the Dark Lord's puppetry. "Dumbledore was the _only_ threat to the Dark Lord. We were slaughtering the Order. The McKinnons, most of the Bones, the Potters, you name them. Dumbledore and Moody aside, the Order was more of an annoyance than real opposition. We can't count on another miracle to save us next time. Well, not that sort of miracle anyway."

Ted and Andromeda shared a meaningful look until she grasped Ted's hand beneath the table. "I won't lie, I'm not sure I can up and forgive you on the spot after the things you said. But I'll join in. As a known 'blood traitor', we'll have a target on our backs as well, and Harry needs his family." Narcissa reached for her sister's hand to signal she would try to make up for her actions.

"Do we even have enough willing witches for this to work? Calling on Morgana's power will require thirteen Blacks no further 3 generations removed from the dominant line."

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "We're not imbeciles you know. We didn't wait for you before we got started. Eight have already agreed to form the coven. Even Bones acknowledged the sensibility of the move."

Andromeda whistled in appreciation. "You convinced Amelia? Then this may just work. Who else did you have in mind?"

Lucius conjured a small piece of paper with the names of the eligible Black witches. There were dozens of names listed, eight of which had been magically moved to the top away from the rest. Andromeda smiled as she saw her name move join them, raising it to nine of the needed thirteen. The last name on the list of eligible Blacks left Andromeda laughing into Ted's shoulder.

"You might as well cross Molly of the list. She and Arthur can barely stomach the sight of you two," she said between the giggles.

"We're just keeping all our options open, Andy," Narcissa stressed before mumbling, "Not like I want to be around the overbearing do-gooder anyway…"

"And McGonagall, well, she'd at least hear out before tossing you out on your arse. Her father was a Catholic priest wasn't he?"

"I'm thinking your cousin Lyra and aunt Verona are our best bets," Lucius said to move things along. "They were never much for the blood purity movement, even if Verona was married off to the Selwyns."

Ted nodded. "Lyra seems a sensible choice. She was always quite _taken_ with the Dark Arts. Heard she got job at St. Mungo's, Spell Damage Ward unless I'm mistaken?"

"That's right," Narcissa said. "A kindred spirit among our number is more likely to persuade Morgana into becoming the family goddess."

"Aren't we forgetting something though?" Andromeda asked. "To even begin the process of enacting a Coven-bonding Ritual we'd need to give up something substantial as an offering, something like the _Black Grimoire_. And last I checked that was locked up in the Grimmauld Place before Walburga died. No one but Sirius can get in."

"We should be able to get around that. Think about it. Walburga disowned you and Sirius, and Bella's mind is too incoherent in Azkaban, so the most 'loyal' Black whose call Kreacher would respond to is mine, isn't it?"

Andromeda smiled at Walburga's assumption of Narcissa's complicity working in their favor. "Why don't you give it a try, Cissa?"

* * *

Harry was leaning on Mitchell's shoulders as he and Cameron assisted him back to their home. He was too out of it to metamorph, so he settle for a hat to hide his appearance, at least enough that anyone still looking for him wouldn't recognize him at a glance.

"I hope you get better at this soon James. I'm glad to lend a hand and all, but half-carrying you across town isn't the kind of workout I enjoy," Cam said.

"Don't you worry, I'll be like Doctor Strange in no time. But after Burmog's trials, my magic's too strained for _Apprachution_ ," Harry replied.

"Appra-what? Is that a real word?" Mitchell asked dubiously.

Harry shrugged. "That's what they called it. Probably a silly goblin thing, they have their own gobbly language." His stomach gave a pronounced rumbling that the three could hear over the sounds of Brixton in the evening. "Uhg, if only I weren't so hungry. They tried to give me a chocolate frog as a 'reward' for hard work. Can you believe them? I'm not eating a _frog_ , yummy or not" he said defiantly.

As the three continued through town to pick up Gwen from her new job on the way home, Harry began to think about what Burmog had told him the other week about the bad man that killed his family.

' _I wonder why he wanted to hurt us so badly... Wait, maybe my parent were superheroes. Yeah, that's why he wanted us gone, cause he was a villain,'_ he thought sadly. Seeing photos of his parents had been a real delight for Harry. The Dursleys had never let him see what they looked like, which didn't surprise him since they also lied about how they died. ' _And on top of that, I'm famous in the magic world? Why does it have to be me? Am I a weirdo even to other magic people?'_

Waving of those sad thoughts for the time being, Harry looked up when he heard the loud engine of a sportscar barreling up the empty road beside them. Harry watched as it sped past them up Brixton Hill towards the shopping centre, seemingly intent on beating the traffic light. Harry would have thought nothing of it had he not seen what lay ahead.

A young girl had begun running across the crosswalk, oblivious to the red-colored doom that was headed her way at breakneck speeds. Despite finally hearing the sports car's brakes screeching in a desperate attempt to avoid the child just ahead of them, Harry began acting quickly.

He shook off Cam and Mitch and Apparated to the girl's location. Although he managed to make the jump, he collapsed against her upon arrival due to overusing magic throughout the day.

"Eep!" squealed the brown-haired girl. In her surprise, Harry felt a strong stinging on his chest that caused him to push off of her to make it stop. Her shock at Harry's sudden appearance changed to fear when she saw the car about to slam into them. Harry made one last attempt to Apparate them away after grabbing her by the elbow.

The two were sucked into the enveloping darkness that accompanied Apparition. Although Harry managed to get the magic to work, he could tell he hadn't _quite_ done it properly the moment they reached the first destination that came to mind. They landed in the living room of the apartment Harry and his friends took up shelter in. A sharp pain on Harry's left breast was explained quickly: He looked under his shirt to discover that he had left a _nipple_ behind due to his hasty teleportation.

"Well, damn, that looks funny," he said before passing out from magic overuse.

The girl Harry had saved had been busy emptying her dinner onto the floor of the apartment, which made her even more irritable when she turned to see the boy unconscious.

"Oh we just had to go visit Mum's friends today, didn't we..." she complained.

* * *

 **(Hogwarts, Evening)**

McGonagall's mirror was buzzing about in her pocket. She had retired to her room for the evening to grade some schoolwork from the day, so hopefully whoever it was provided her a much needed distraction.

Upon answering the call, Alastor Moody's face appeared onscreen.

"Minerva, glad someone bothers being on-call," he said gruffly.

Before she could ask why he was contacting her so late, Moody said, "I've got a lead on _him_ Minerva."

That caught her attention. "Where?"

"I got word from one o' Dung's contacts that someone fitting his description has been spotted sneaking around Galena consistently the past couple o' weeks. But there's more," he said in a bemused tone.

"Did something happen?" McGonagall asked frantically. "Is he hurt or something?"

"Nothing quite like that as far as I know. But you know how Shacklebolt has had a special eye paid to activity on the Muggleborn Trace in the Brixton area? It picked up a Stinging Hex from a little Muggleborn girl - one Miss Granger if I'm not mistaken - about twenty minutes back. The squad that got to the scene found the girl's parents in a right state," he said. "Some mad muggle was speeding down the street when their daughter was crossing the road."

"My word, did she survive?" McGonagall asked sadly. She recalled helping to give the Grangers their primer on the magical world after the Ministry detected their child performing magic a few years prior. The girl was as intellectually precocious as she had seen; it was a travesty to lose one so promising that way.

"That's just it, the girl was unharmed as far as anyone can tell. They didn't get a good look, but someone that looked about her age rescued the girl using Disapparition. It's hardly proof, but I've just got a hunch it was the kid," Moody said determinedly.

"Alastor, please find him. If one of Mundungus's 'friends' gave you that information, there's no telling who else might know."

"Aye, don't worry Minerva, I've been cooking up something for when I got the boy's scent. The damn thing is too sensitive to be called reliable, but I think the enchantment is about as good as it's gonna… ah well, you don't need to know the details. I'll call back if there's news," he said. His face disappeared from her mirror, leaving McGonagall in quite the state herself.

* * *

The feeling of someone prodding his face accompanied Harry's foray back to consciousness. He tried opening his eyes, to partial success. The world was a haze, blurred and bright in the evening light that came in through the window of the apartment. As his vision began to clear, Harry saw what he initially mistook as an overgrown beaver staring at him haughtily. As his sight cleared, he realized it was a young girl with long, wildly curly hair and, indeed, rather large front teeth. Well, he could at least appreciate that someone else had uncontrollable hair too.

"Ugh, did you catch the plates of the car that ran me over..." he said as he lifted himself from the ground.

"Awake are you? Would you like to explain why brought me here? And _who_ are you?" Beaver Girl asked.

"You know, a thank you would be nice. I did just stop you from being flattened," he said, _almost_ regretting his actions.

Thankfully however, the girl seemed to realize that Harry _had_ prevented her from going to an early grave. She flushed a bit before saying "Oh, I'm ever so sorry. Thank you for saving me. I was just a bit cross for being snatched up so suddenly."

"It's OK, I didn't have a lot time to think about it beforehand," Harry said nervously. He wasn't much used to speaking with kids his own age, especially these days.

"Wait a minute, _how_ did you do take us here? Are you magic, like me?" she asked while looking at him in wonder. "Who are you?"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "You can do magic too? I've never met another magic kid!" he said in excitement. "I Appratuted us, it's pretty nifty."

"It was a shock to me too. All that weird stuff began happening, and then suddenly some government types showed up at our house to explain things," the girl said in comparable excitement. "I didn't know anyone was allowed to _Apparate_ until they had their license. Oh, I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger." She held out her hand to him.

"Funny name. My name is Harry Potter," he said as he shook her hand. ' _She really likes to talk,'_ he thought in amusement.

The girl gasped. "Are you really? You're really famous you know." She moved his long bangs back and saw the famous scar on his forehead, just as the books said.

Harry ruffled his hair a bit. ' _So I really am famous. Oh great...'_ he thought. ' _Why me...'_

"Yea, that's me," he said quietly.

The girl tilted her head a bit and said, "If you're Harry Potter then what are you doing here? I thought you lived in the Muggle world?"

' _They even know where I live?'_ Harry thought in exasperation.

"I ran away months ago. My aunt and uncle… well, they didn't like magic, so they didn't want me around and I didn't want to stay. So I left," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"But, Harry, that's crazy. You can't grow up homeless, who takes care of you. How do you _eat_?"

"It's no big deal, I just nick food from shops around town. I tried to make it with magic but it didn't work for some reason."

"You steal? But, isn't that against the law?" Hermione asked.

"I-I guess. But I've got to eat somehow, don't I?" he said after crossing his arms. "It's easy to judge when you have probably have parents that don't throw you in the cupboard."

Hermione shifted uneasily at that statement, and she didn't know how to respond without seeming too high and mighty.

"I didn't mean it to come across that way." She chewed her lower lip a bit, a nervous habit of hers. "Um, so, does anyone know you're gone? As famous as you are, I'd expect to see your name in the wizarding newspapers."

"I wouldn't know, I don't really talk to many wizards, just goblins mostly," Harry said. The goblins were easier to talk to, you never really had to wonder what they thought of you. They were rather curt beings.

Before the conversation could progress further, Mitchell walked into the room.

"Mitch, there you are!" Harry said with a grin. "Look, I found another magic kid, like me!" he said, pointing at Hermione.

The girl gave a small wave at the two. "Hi..." she said weakly.

Mitchell didn't respond though. In fact, the more Harry watched him the odder her seemed. He had tense shoulders and looked to be in a sort of daze, as if he couldn't even see Hermione.

"Harry Potter," Mitchell said in an oddly flat tone. "If you wish to see your little Muggle friends alive, you'll follow this body to my location. Tell no one where you are going or your friends are history."

"W-what?" Harry said. "Is this some kind of joke Mitch? Well it's not very funny. Gwen was right, leave that to Cam."

"You have one hour or these two are dead," was all Mitchell said in response before he began to walk out of the apartment.

After he had left, the two kids stared at each other in shock.

"Harry, is he going to be…" Hermione began.

Harry shook his head. "I'll get to the bottom of this, don't worry." He realized something first. "Oh wait, I should probably take you back to your parents."

Hermione nodded and looked at her watch. "Oh no, my parents must be be so worried, it's been 45 minutes," she said.

"Don't worry, I can magic us there now that I'm all rested," he said confidently. And with that, he popped the two away before he made to follow after Mitchell.

 **(30 Minutes later, Night)**

It had taken Harry a short time to find Mitchell after dropping Hermione off near her parents, who had stayed near the scene of almost-crime. The young girl promised not to say who had whisked her away provided he made her a promise in return.

"Would you be friends with me?" she asked. "I don't have any friends at school," she said anxiously.

Harry smiled. "Of course! I didn't have any friends at my school either," he said. Hermione had responded with a tight hug that left him a bit winded before she ran out of the alleyway they were in.

"Goodbye Harry! I hope your friends are OK!"

Harry waved at her as she left, and turned his attention to the more pressing matter.

After finding him, Mitchell had walked Harry to a construction site quite far away and continued on into the unfinished building present there. Harry was rather nervous about the whole thing, but followed anyway since Cameron was still nowhere to be seen.

Upon entering the building, Harry saw Cameron at the end of the room they had walked into. Cameron was in the same daze that Mitchell was; Mitchell walked in and stood beside Cameron. A loud crack echoed into the room to signal the entrance of some unknown figure. Harry itched his arm, afraid at what the mysterious man planned to do.

The strange man seemed to be a bit hunchbacked, short brown hair and tiny eyes, giving him quite a distasteful look. The pitch-black robes he wore made him look sinister, even.

"Well well well, Harry Potter," the man said in glee. "To think I'd be the one to find you for the Dark Lord. Good ol' Imperius to take over those Muggles you was with to lure you away from the Accidental Magic responders and here you are." He appraised Harry briefly before saying, "You don't look like much; runty little thing. Ran away from home did ya?"

Harry summoned up as much guts as he could and said, "You better give me my friends back or… or not good things will happen to you!"

The robed man began giggling wheezily at Harry's threat. He wiped a tear from his face before replying, "Am I supposed to be afraid Potter? Of you, a specky defenseless half-blood? I don't know what luck allowed you to escape the Dark Lord but I assure you," he paused to lick his lips, "it won't happen again."

Harry paused a moment. "You're quite strange," Harry said before using a Sticking Charm to adhere the man's shoes to the concrete ground and his feet to the insides of his shoes. The man waved his arms around as he lost his balance and fell to ground. He couldn't lift his feet up.

While the man was frustrated undoing Harry's work, he ran forward to grab his two friends to magic them away from danger. However, the man had pulled out his wand and released himself from from Harry's charm.

"Lucky indeed. Accidental magic won't save you, Potter!" He raised his wand above his head, no doubt to do something really really bad, so Harry directed his hands at the man's wand and levitated it out of his grasp.

"What the devil?" the man shouted as he tried to jump and grab the ascending stick.

While the man was properly distracted, Harry grabbed his friends and tried to Apparate away with them. However, the two of them began shoving Harry away as if he were the threat.

"Guys it's me, James. Knock it off, we don't have long!" Harry pleaded. Mitchell seemed to begin to respond to Harry's words, and started shaking his head repeatedly as if to throw off whatever magic was holding him. Harry decided to remove him first, as Cameron fighting back might cause Harry to leave parts of him behind.

When Harry deposited Mitchell back at the apartment, he seemed to come to senses.

"W-what the hell just happened?" Mitchell asked shakily.

"Don't know, some bad magic man was making you and Cam do what he wanted. Gotta go!" Harry said quickly before Apparating back to the unfinished building.

After reappearing at the site with a small pop, the bad wizard turned to him, wand in hand, and said, "Oh you are a clever one. Yes, now I see why the Dark Lord was so intent on offing you."

He pointed his wand at Harry again, who dove behind an unfinished counter to avoid the green light that came out the wand after the man said some Abracadabra word. Harry didn't know what it was, but it reminded him uncomfortably of a nightmare he used to have.

The green light blasted a large hole in the wall Harry had been standing in front of moments before.

' _This is mad, this is mad, this is mad'_ Harry thought in fear. Some of Burmog's instructions on what to do in a fight echoed in his mind.

' _YOU control the pace of the fight. Don't let your enemy dictate the terms of engagement,'_ he had said. ' _Giving up control places your life in their hands.'_

After peeking around the side of the counter, he spotted Cameron still rooted on the spot he was before. ' _Well, no sense trying to keep away from the No-Fun Police with this loony bloke blasting the place to bits.'_

Harry pointed at the man's robes and and lit it on fire. As the man switched to putting out the flaming robe with water from the tip of his wand, Harry sprinted to the end of the room to grab Cameron, knowing that if he could just touch him they would be safe.

" _Impedimenta_!"

A curious sensation engulfed Harry from behind. His body slowed down tremendously. Try as he might, he felt like he was trying to run through a river of syrup.

"That'll slow you down," the robed man said. He walked around from behind Harry, letting Harry see the look of anger on the man's face.

"L-let me go!" Harry shouted.

He shook his head. "No, I think I'll pay you back twice over for making this more annoying than it had to be." He waved his wand in a circle above his head. "There we go. Since you just had to use magic, that barrier should keep out any uninvited guests long enough for me to have my fun."

With a cruel smile that would scare even his uncle, he pointed his wand at Harry and-

Harry began screaming at the top of his lungs and flailing upon the ground. The pain that followed the man's magic was beyond excruciating. It was worse than anything Harry thought possible, even than his uncle's worst beatings, as if all his skin had been set aflame.

And just as suddenly as it began, it ceased, leaving Harry panting and crying on the cold ground.

"They say your first Cruciatus is always the worst. Why don't we if that holds up?" he asked nastily.

Again, the all-encompassing pain took ahold of Harry, whose unheard screams filled the air once more, for how long he couldn't tell. The ceaseless pain was all that occupied his mind. As Harry nearly reached the point of asking the man to put him out of his misery, he stopped.

The man crouched down in front of the whimpering Harry with a satisfied expression on his face. "Turns out the second can eclipse the first. But don't worry Potter, I can spare a bit of mercy for you.

He walked over to Cameron, who seemed to have been fighting the magic controlling him, though the man seemed unaware of it.

"Be honored Muggle, you get to see the death of the 'great' Harry Potter." He raised his wand at an angle diagonal from his head. The tip of the wand was engulfed in a purple fire. As the man brought the wand down in a slashing movement, Harry closed his eyes to await the inevitable, wondering all the while how magic could be used so horribly.

"Oof!" grunted a voice. Harry heard the sound of someone falling to ground loudly.

He opened his eyes to see Cameron on the floor, eyes closed and unmoving.

* * *

 **(Tonks Residence)**

"Well, Kreacher?" Narcissa asked.

Kreacher bowed respectfully and said, "Kreacher lives to serve his Mistress. I will find the Potter boy, as mistress commands." With that said, the aged house-elf Apparated to complete his task.

"Do you think Kreacher can find Harry?" Andromed asked. "He could be anywhere."

Lucius shook his head. "If he has been in Galena so much I'm certain he's holed up somewhere in Brixton. Besides, as a descendant of the House of Black, Harry's location should be somewhat easier for Kreacher to find. House-elves have some kind of sense for the location of their masters so they can Apparate to them."

"We can only hope," Ted said.

* * *

"Cam!" Harry shouted. He stood shakily from the ground and hobbled over to his fallen friend as fast as he was able. What he saw was gut-wrenching. His hands had been severed but the magic the robed man used.

"Cam, it's OK, I-I think I can fix this. I will, I will!" he shouted, breathing heavily at the sight of all the blood.

The robed man watched with interest. "Oh go on Potter, try and save your little Muggle pet," he said with a snort. "You'll see the power of the Dark Arts cannot be overcome. But the despair in your eyes when you realize it will be appetizing."

Harry ignored his taunts. If there was one thing Harry was good at, it was magic; he _knew_ he could fix this if he tried. As sickening as it was, he picked up his friend's severed hands and pushed them up against the stumps at the end of his arms.

He then concentrated harder than he ever had before. He'd never wanted to succeed at anything as much as he did this.

"Please magic, don't let my friend die!" he pleaded. A blinding light enveloped the room, spreading from Harry's hands into the hands and arms of Cameron's.

Harry couldn't see for a moment, but the feeling told him it had worked. He had never summoned up so much magic, so how could it do anything but succeed?

When the light died down, Harry expected to see Cameron sit up and say something like "Gimme a hand, would ya?" Only he didn't. Cameron remained motionless, his hands just as detached from his arms as they had been before.

Harry began to cry. "But how? I gave it everything I had? Why didn't it work?" he asked. Magic had _never_ failed Harry, not really. Even when he couldn't make food appear, he always assumed it was because deep down he knew he could always go out and steal it. But anything he had ever been really motivated at doing seemed to work, so why didn't it this time.

"Come on, work!" he shouted, trying to force the magic to do its job. "It's magic, it can do anything, so why isn't it working?"

The evil wizard began laughing in earnest at this. "I told you Potter, the damage done by Dark Magic is irreversible. Did you really think all it would take was a bit of effort to undo it? But don't worry boy, you'll be seeing your friend soon enough."

Harry was furious. This man actually enjoyed killing people. Harry had never wanted to really hurt someone before, but he felt it now.

" _Avada K-_ "

"Expelliarmus!" came a new voice.

A red streak of light hit the robed man, causing his wand to fly out of his hand.

"Damn!" he shouted before Disapparating away in a resounding crack.

Harry turned to see the strangest man he'd ever seen. The man seemed to be getting up in years and quite disfigured though by what Harry didn't know. He had a mane of long black hair, a strange blue right and and the gait that made Harry think of a pirate. In his right hand was a magic wand, while in his left hand were a pair of odd metal rods.

"Damn scum got away, that barrier was stronger 'an I expected," the man grumbled in a low tone. He looked over and spotted Harry kneeling in front of what he assumed was a dead Muggle; his eye could see the boy's heart was non-functional. All the while, his right eye was whirling about in his head to inform him if his prey returned to finish the job.

Moody hobbled over to Harry and asked, "What happened here, Potter?" With his wand held behind his back, he surreptitiously cast a quick Tracking Charm on the boy in case he got any funny ideas.

Recovering from the shock of the man before him, sadness consumed him again as he cried out, "I tried to save him, I really did. But the magic didn't work."

Moody saw the severed hand and understood in an instant. "It's not your fault, severe Dark Magic damage can't be fixed."

"But it _was_ my fault. Cam wouldn't have been here if he didn't know me," he said. "He'd be alive if it wasn't for me. He jumped in the way of that spell to save me"

"Potter, don't bla-"

"I-I gotta get out of here," he said frantically. He Disapparated before Moody could grab ahold of him.

Moody sighed. After a brief glance at the body of the deceased Muggle, he pulled out his mirror to call for Minerva and Albus. Both of their faces quickly appeared in his mirror, taking up half the screen each.

"I found Potter. He got away, but not before I placed a Tracking Charm on him. We'll get him back," Moody said.

"Excellent, Alastor!" Dumbledore said in good cheer. "Did the Dumble-Dowsers work?"

Ignoring the silly name Albus had come up with for Moody's inventions, he said "Aye. They took me to Apparition points all over the place for the better part of an hour. But then they picked up a lot of Apparition activity from one location, so I chanced it. Potter had been cornered by what I assume was a Death Eater… Bastard got away too, but from the looks of it he got Potter pretty hard. Even killed some Muggle the kid was acquainted with in front of him."

"Alastor, we need to find him! I'll be right there," Minerva said before leaving the call.

"As will I," Dumbledore said in haste.

The two of them appeared behind Alastor, each with a house-elf accompanying them before they Disapparated back to Hogwarts without the professors.

"Where to?" Minerva asked with a stony face when she saw the dead boy in front of them.

Moody flicked his wand, causing a semi-transparent white trail to appear in the air. It began from the spot Harry had been before he teleported away and went out in a particular direction toward the boy's present location.

"Follow me!" Moody said as they quickly made to find the hurt boy.

* * *

I was running. Running as much as I could. And when I could run no more, I teleported further up the road, just to keep myself moving. The evening sun was quickly making for the horizon.

There was just no point in it all. How could I even think about having friends if they'd just get hurt for knowing me? The look on Cameron's face as he fell to the ground, never to stand back up…

No, I have to keep moving. If I stop, if I think about it, that'll make it real. That'll make have to feel it. No, no, if I let that happen, I just know I'll never want to get up again. There's be nothing to live for…

I don't know how long I've been moving. I've come upon a house in the middle of a field. It seems to be empty, so maybe I'll just stay here for now…

I sat there in the empty living room for minutes on end, hours even. The pain from that man's magic would be difficult to forget. I'd never thought someone would want to make someone hurt so badly. Magic is amazing, so why would anyone use it like this? Is this why Uncle Vernon hated magic, hated me?

The minutes begin to bleed together, and I can no longer stop the images flashing before me eyes. I poured all the magic I could into it and I still couldn't save Cam. How could the magic not work?

I wanted to teleport out of the room, to return my focus to something else, but I realized something. The magic wouldn't work. I tried it again, only for it to fail utterly once more. The realization just hit me: I can't do it. The magic is gone and I'm all alone…

* * *

As the boy sat there alone, a powerful, dark wind began to flow from his body. The dark force started tearing the house apart around the boy as he hid his head between his knees. Although the force threatened to overtake him, the boy was spared due through a stroke of luck.

* * *

"He's just up ahead," Moody announced.

The trio had trapsed about Brixton for the last five or more hours to follow the magical trail that Moody's tracking spell created for them. They had ended up on some farmland near a farmer's market.

Moody stopped suddenly at the sight his magical eye saw through the farmhouse.

"What the hell is that?" Moody nearly shouted.

"What is it, Alastor?" Dumbledore asked with narrowed eyes in the direction of the house. He was picking up a familiar feeling, and it was causing the hair on his neck to stand up due to how Dark it felt.

"I've never seen this before Albus, but something strange is happening to Potter. We need to hurry!" he yelled.

The three ran into the house, with McGonagall having Vanished the door to allow them through unimpeded. What they saw was startling. The house was being torn apart by something nearly invisible. A powerful wind was sweeping through the dwelling as if a mad poltergeist had taken up residence there.

And there in the middle of it all was Harry Potter, head hidden between his knees as if he were trying to hide from it.

Dumbledore's blood ran ice cold as he realized what he was looking at. "It can't be. It _can't_ be..." he muttered.

Minerva barely overhead him over the destruction of the house. "What Albus? What's going on hear?"

Dumbledore didn't respond to her question, he was frozen. All he could think about was his own sister and how he had failed to stop this dark force that had overtaken her in his youth.

A loud crack occurred behind them, drawing the attention of Alastor, Minerva and Albus. A group of four people, two men and two women, had been Apparated to the farmhouse by a decrepit house-elf. Alastor growled when he saw that one of the four of them was Lucius Malfoy.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Moody asked fiercely. "Came to try and finish the job your friend from before failed to do?" Moody never bought the claim that Malfoy had been Imperiused by Voldemort himself into assisting the Death Eaters monetarily. He hadn't been as large a voice among the blood supremacists as figures like the Carrows and Blacks, but Malfoy was no saint; Moody would never trust him on principle alone.

Lucius raised his empty hands. "We simply came to find Harry Potter when we learned he had run away from an _abusive family_ ," Lucius said. Narcissa scowled at Dumbledore, who looked down guiltily at that statement. "We mean the boy no harm."

Andromed stepped forward with her husband. "Albus, it's true. We're just trying to protect him, he's family. And even if you can't trust Cissa and Lucius, at least trust that Ted and I would never hurt Harry."

Dumbledore nodded and returned his attention to Harry, who hadn't moved an inch.

The four newcomers walked forward, with Andromeda asking "What's happening to him?" While the house was being torn apart, Harry's hair was rapidly changing colors, from gray, to black, brown, reminding Andromeda of her own daughter. "He's a Metamorphmagus?"

"Indeed he is." Dumbledore paused before bitterly saying, "He's turning into an Obscurial..."

Only Minerva, Moody and Lucius seemed to recognize the term, given the grave expressions that appeared on their faces.

For Dumbledore, however, all he could think about were those words he'd been told more than eight years previously. ' _The power the Dark Lord knows not...'_

' _I pray this is not what was Foreseen...'_ Dumbledore thought.

* * *

 **(A/N):**

A cliffhanger? I know I hate it when I read those but if I wrote anymore in this chapter it would have felt excessive. Well, how was it? If you liked it, leave me a **Review** as they motivate me to write more and **Favorite** if you wouldn't mind. Constructive criticism is also nice, especially if you tell me exactly what you think I should work on. I'm well aware I'm not a brilliant author, heh. Also, if anyone is willing I'm looking for a second Beta for times when my current one is unavailable. **PM** me if you're interested. Sorry about any typos, I needed to get this one out as, since it was near completion, I wouldn't be able to until the following week since this week will be a mess for me.

Just to head off a few things. Please remember that I have this story outlined, so I know where I want to head with it (at least up until around 4th year, bit hazy afterwards right now). So if something here put you off because you think it's going in a certain direction, well, maybe wait until next chapter before dropping it just to make sure I didn't resolve it? Please? :-

Someone wondered if the Black Coven would be a way for Harry to become OP quickly, and I'd like to just say that it won't. The coven is only to be for those who are of age, and I don't plan on making it make individuals stronger at magic. Harry's skill in magic (which as you see in this chapter, isn't anywhere near an adult wizard's) is developed by doing magic. I felt that as this Harry's acquaintance with magic was pragmatic (to learn to survive on the streets), it would fit him more to get better at magic by doing it, not getting stupid random power-ups or the old "Harry spends the summer learning Occlumency and becoming OP wizard Mcbuff guy".

One thing I want to do with this coven thing is explore some that the RoBM hasn't yet: the role of the being the coven worships, what does Morgana as a family deity do?. I'm not sure if there are any other stories where this religious angle is tackled, but it's something I'd like to develop some as it will play a role down the line.

Also, sorry if the brief change in perspective annoyed you. I thought I'd try my hand at it briefly, and that seemed the best time to do so. Don't worry though, it's not something I see myself doing again.

Anyway, thanks for reading. _Hopefully_ my update schedule will begin to crystallize into something that works for me as the author and you all as the readers. Life is hectic and tiring sometimes, ya know?


	5. Chapter 5: Sin Harvest

**(A/N):** Wow, this story has 16.5K views, nearly 630 follows and just over 300 favorites as of the time of me uploading chapter 5. I did not expect it to be so popular. Be sure to Review, it keeps me motivated to write (when I have time)!

* * *

The dark force continued to tear through the house. It was as if a menacing wind were about the place, tearing doors off hinges, swirling furniture around the living room, blowing out windows. As the seconds progressed, the cause seemed to become more visible as an oily, black-colored something gained substance over time, spreading out from the black-haired boy who sat against the wall, shuddering into his knees.

"An Obscurial?" Andromeda asked in confusion at Dumbledore's assessment. The elderly man had paled considerably when he had seen Harry, not that Andromeda had needed that to no something was going wrong. As if the rampant magic weren't bad enough, there was an ominous feeling being projected onto the occupants of the living room, one which promised chaos and destruction in due time. She glanced at her sister Narcissa, who shook her head, not being familiar with the term either.

"A magical transformation that results in the creation of a malignant, parasitic force," Dumbledore began. "It develops when one suppresses their magic due to a trauma associated with magic itself and a trauma that leads one to hating their magic and preventing its usage."

Moody growled at this. "It was that Death Eater. He killed that Muggle boy after attacking Potter. I didn't see it myself, but he said that he tried to use magic to save him."

Minerva had hardly looked away from Harry since arriving. It was breaking her heart to see him like this, to see the results of she and Dumbledore's decision to place Harry in the Muggle world. She wanted to go and comfort him, to make him see that things would be okay. She made as if to do so when Dumbledore placed a hand in front of her path to stop her.

"Minerva, we cannot rush this. The transformation hasn't set in yet, we may yet win the day," Dumbledore said as he stared at Harry unflinchingly. The continuing development of the Obscurus was worrisome. "If he sees strangers coming to him, even with good intent, he may give in to the change out of fright. I fear the outcome of such a catastrophe." That having been said, Dumbledore Silenced the area of the living room the he and the other adult wizards were at so as not to drawn Harry's attention, and cast a Shield Charm to keep the flying debris away from them.

Lucius was watching with rapt fascination from behind Dumbledore's barrier. Not for lack of caring for the boy's well-being, but because actually seeing an Obscurus was rare. It was a sight few, if any, living practitioners of the Dark Arts had seen now that wizardkind had hidden itself from Muggles and thus had no need to try and suppress their magic to remain undetected. Though Dumbledore had protected their portion of the living room, the increasing power of the developing Obscurus was evident as its power periodically impacted the Shield Charm.

"Dumbledore, you say the transformation hasn't taken hold?" Lucius asked curiously. "It was my understanding that the development of an Obscurus was all-or-nothing. I didn't realize it could reversed."

Dumbledore chuckled a bit before saying, "I believe we are looking at a unique case here. The cause of the unfinished transformation is visible, just look at his hair."

Naturally, Ted and Andromeda were the quickest on the uptake.

"His Metamorphmagus abilities," Andromeda said in realization. "He can't easily suppress them, their activation is often tied to the wizard's emotions." She recalled how Nymphadora's hair color was often indicative of her current emotional state, especially when she was at home and didn't need to hide her shape-shifting abilities. Red when she was quite frustrated, blueish when she very relaxed, black or gray when she felt somber or depressed.

"Precisely," Dumbledore said. "His magic is finding escape through that ability and that gives us a chance to undo this before he becomes a true Obscurial. But we need to find someone he trusts to talk him down, and quickly." The wizened wizard turned to face Moody, who had kept his magical right eye pointed at Lucius since his arrival. "Alastor, would you mind separating the developing Obscurus from Harry for a few moments? I need to delve into his mind, but I have to take it slow lest my intrusion there be mistaken as an attack."

Moody nodded. " _Dispello!_ ," he said while waving his wand in a figure-eight pattern. The dark wind circulating throughout the room began to thin out in response the Dispersal Spell Moody cast.

While Moody had been temporarily neutralizing the quasi-Obscurus, Dumbledore had cast a silent a _Legilimens_ spell on Harry. As the spell took effect, Dumbledore found himself at the end of a seemingly endless hallway with an equally endless number of rooms, each hidden behind nondescript beige doors. Behind the door of each room were areas containing Harry's memories, with the most recent memories being within the room's nearest where he began.

One door in particular stood out, as the door to the room

Dumbledore called the memory into focus in his own mind's eye to see if Moody's story checked out. Harry was in a construction site, facing a man in a cloak. Dumbledore could not identify the man as Harry's memory of the man's face was indistinct and vague. As the interaction between Harry and the man proceeded, Dumbledore's surprise grew as he saw just how far Harry had come with using magic without his wand.

"It still seems inconceivable for a child to Coarsecast at all, let alone bring it to this level on his own," Dumbledore thought. "I suspect more is going on here that I'm not yet privy too..."

He pushed aside his earlier concerns that Harry was paralleling Tom Riddle more than he liked, as the boy's desire to save his two friends was something Tom had never been inclined to do.

Dumbledore briefly caught a glimpse of the location that Harry Apparated the first Muggle to, which would allow him to transport there once he was finished inspecting Harry's memories. As he continued to watch the events, it soon became apparent to Dumbledore why Harry couldn't readily identify the wizard who killed the Muggle boy as he was put under successive Cruciatus Curses.

Upon seeing the Muggle take an unidentified curse in Harry's place and Harry's subsequent inability to save him, Dumbledore had seen enough and was about to pull out of the boy's mind when a haunting voice broke into the abyss.

"Make them pay for what they did," it spoke. "It's only right to hurt them back. Adults just like to hurt me..."

Although Dumbledore knew that his mind's portrayal of Harry's thoughts as a room of memories was more to assist in his journey into the boy's thoughts than a true representation of the mind, he couldn't resist turning this way and that in order to locate the source of the disembodied voice.

"Who goes there?" Dumbledore said resolutely. He wasn't sure what he was dealing with but there was definitely _something_ unnatural lurking within the recesses of Harry's consciousness. It emanated an unmistakable malice that Dumbledore was shocked a child was capable of.

"Is this the Obscurus?" he asked uncomfortably. Whatever it was, it made Dumbledore feel uneasy in a way that he hadn't been since confrontations with Voldemort years prior.

He shuddered at the thought.

Instead of a verbal response to Dumbledore's question, powerful tremors began tearing through the hall of memories, nearly knocking over the mental representation of Dumbledore's body. As he steadied himself, the voice returned with a vengeance.

"You do not belong here. " the spectre screamed from all around Dumbledore. Dumbledore managed to weather the mental assault, only to come face with a mental representation of Harry Potter.

But it was _all wrong_.

The small figure before him was more vapor than form. It appeared as a dark, shadowy doppelganger of Harry, staring at him with a fierce expression and red, slitted eyes, as if it were the meanest ghost.

"No, this- what are you?" Dumbledore demanded of the… whatever it was in front of him. Those eyes were a dead ringer for Tom, but Dumbledore couldn't accept that this was happening again, not so soon...

"Get out, get out get out!" the form shrieked.

It was then that the aged wizard found himself summarily rebuffed from Harry's mind in a most peculiar fashion. As if he had been slammed into by a Knight Bus, he found his consciousness knocked back to the external world by the sudden use of Occlumency. Upon his return, he found himself with quite the headache.

If Dumbledore expected events in the physical world to be going any better he was sorely disappointed. Harry's progression towards becoming an Obscurial was increasing. The torrent of black wind had gotten a boost and was violently tearing apart the entire farmhouse. The walls of the house had been torn down, the roof was collapsing, and the debris was swirling around Harry in the shape of a whirlpool.

One glance at his hair and Dumbledore could tell they were nearly out of time. His hair color was changing very slowly and much less frequently than it had been prior. The boy also had a hand placed over his scar, evidently experiencing significant pain there.

Dumbledore asked quickly, "What's going on?" He wasn't surprised to see Moody with his wand at the ready.

Moody glanced at his old friend and said, "We were hoping you could tell us that. The boy took one look at us and everything went pear-shaped."

Dumbledore thought it over for a moment before replying firmly, "It's the wands, put them away."

Moody began to protest Dumbledore's demand. "Alastor, my charm is still in effect so we're safe. You were right before, whoever his attacker was did unspeakable things to him. He was Cruciated, repeatedly…"

The collective intake of breath stalled anything further protests or questions for a moment. Even the normally composed Narcissa was visibly disturbed by the news.

"He doesn't trust adults and seems particularly afraid our wands," Dumbledore continued. "I'm going to fetch someone he trusts. Do nothing that might worsen this; I'll return in a few."

A nearly silent pop signalled his Disapparition.

* * *

Harry had refused to open his eyes and see the destruction his magic was unleashing around him. He couldn't bear to see something he found so freeing and so _right_ being twisted in such a way, to watch such malevolence spilling out of him as if he were some kind of devil. He hoped against hope that it would just go away and leave him to his misery.

That's when his scar felt as if it had burst into flames.

"Ow!" he cried out, grasping at the lightning-shaped patch. Against his intention, he opened his eyes as they began to water from the terrible pain that broke out in his forehead. It didn't compare to the magic the evil man from before was doing, but it was more than enough to make him forget about the dark magic he was releasing. He recalled the days he spent sleeping in a church months ago and one of the services he snuck into to see what it was all about. He didn't really understand this prayer thing - Harry thought it looked silly, in all honesty - but he was praying to whoever would listen that this affliction would go away.

He then heard voices from elsewhere in the room, causing him to briefly ignore the pain to look at the source of it. There six or seven adults looking at him in concern, something he was far from accustomed to. One was an old man with a beard reaching all the way to his waist and wearing in a light blue suit; he seemed to be in a trance of sorts as he stared at Harry intently without blinking. Another was a somewhat younger woman who was dressed in a light brown evening gown, wearing an anxious expression. Another was a younger blonde woman who, as with the brunette beside her, looked with similar concerned looks. He was about to look at the the two men accompanying those woman...

And then he saw it. The source of everything that had gone wrong the day before: a wand. The disfigured man holding it looked familiar, but Harry couldn't stop looking at the stick in his hand. Nothing else seemed to exist as the object occupied his entire focus and all else faded into background noise. Try as he might, Harry couldn't look away from the thing as flashes of the robed man from before assaulted his mind's eye.

 _Flash_ The all-consuming pain, _Flash!_ Cam dying. _Flash!_ His magic failing to restore his friend...

Harry felt like he was losing what little control he had left as the magic poured out of him even more than it was before. The house began being torn apart by the black substance that Harry was emitting, but he paid it no mind as his fear reached a fever pitch.

' _Make them pay for what they did_ ,' a cold, unfamiliar voice spoke into his mind. ' _It's only right to hurt them back. Adults just like to hurt me…_ ' Harry couldn't agree more.

"Get away!" Harry shouted as the voice continued speaking to him. As his anger grew, the force he was emitting appeared to grow in strength, but so too did the pain within his scar. He couldn't focus as much on the unknown people before him because of that pain, but he no longer cared so long as his runaway magic would get rid of them and their foul wands.

Dumbledore reappeared at the nearly destroyed home. The two muggles in tow stared at the destruction in surprise. The house the appeared in was practically eroded away by whatever magic James was doing. Their young friend didn't spot them as he was on his knees palming his face, evidently in a lot of pain. The eccentric man had quickly summarized what happened so they knew they need to act quickly.

"James!" Mitchell and Gwen said. The two wanted to run to his side but the malevolent force emanating from the boy made it impossible for them to get any closer. Fortunately, however, the boy heard their words and looked up.

Despite everything that had happened, Harry couldn't help but smile to see his friends there. The dark wind began to die down some, allowing them to get close to him. Then he remembered the third that had died because of him causing the wind to return behind them, closing them inside of the dark vortex that began raging about the place again.

"Gwen, Mitch? I-I'm sorry-," Harry began.

"We know, the old bloke told us told us about Cam," Mitchell said solemnly. He placed his arms on the shoulders of the shaking boy and said as calmly as he could, "James, listen to me. We know it hurts, and that's not going to just go away. But it's not your fault, you have to believe me, it's not."

Harry shook his head at this. "You didn't see what happened. That man only took you and Cam to make me show up there. It's my fault, if he didn't know me he wouldn't have gotten hurt!" He pushed Mitchell's hands off of his shoulders and backed up into the wall behind him, no longer able to stem the flow of the tears.

Gwen noticed the wind began to pick up steam the more frantic Harry got, so she decided to try another avenue. "James, how to Cam die?" she asked.

Harry's sniffed a bit before answering, "He jumped in the way of the bad magic that man was using on me. I tried to save him, I promise I did. B-but the magic wouldn't work…"

Gwen walked over and knelt in front of Harry, opening her arms in invitation, one which Harry took after briefly hesitating. Gwen took the dissipating wind as a good sign as he cried into her shoulder. She rubbed his back and said, "It's not your fault Harry. Don't you see? Cam chose to do what he did. I'm sure he didn't want to die, but he made the decision to trade his life to save yours, not you."

"But if it wasn't for-"

She squeezed him tighter to stall him for a moment. "That evil man did this James, not you. Bad things happen in life, awful things even. You know that as well as any of us did. We can't take responsibility for what others choose to do. We can only do what we think is right and try for the best outcome we can. That's why I know Cam didn't regret putting himself in the way."

By this point, Mitchell had also knelt down beside them and joined in the hug. "Cameron _loved_ you James, just as we do. We may have only known each other for a couple of months, but you all felt like a real family to me, something I've never had before. Love… that's what lets us stick our necks out for the people we care for, even if we know we'll get hurt."

"He's right you know," Gwen said while smiling slightly. "We love you more than anyone. And we'll be here for every day, every day even."

Harry just nodded slightly in response and continued to hold onto the two of them tightly.. Much to the relief of all present, the dark wind completely disappeared, though the house was well and truly annihilated. Nearly all the walls had been blown out, broken furniture and brick were scattered about and the roof had been cast off to who knows where.

Before the conversation could continue, there was a loud cough from behind them that drew their attention. Harry turned and saw the group from before, most of whom wore expressions of interest or else confusion. Either way, being the center of attention of numerous adults was a bit much for Harry. The sound came from the wizard-y, blue suit man that Harry saw before.

Harry tensed a bit when he saw that the fierce-looking man from before still had his wand out, but his friends gripped his shoulders. Mitchell said, "It's okay, James. They're the ones that brought us to you."

He relaxed a bit, but he avoided looking at the wand to keep himself as calm as he could.

Dumbledore was still stunned from the entity he had seen within Harry's mind. However, he knew now was not the time nor place to linger on that worry. He smiled to help diffuse the tension and said, "We've been trying to find you for quite some time, Mr Potter. You gave a right scare when you disappeared from your family all those months ago."

Harry's eyes narrowed at those words. "They were _not_ my family, they're bad people."

"Quite true," Dumbledore said. "That said, we have much to speak about, much we have to tell you. Mistakes were made - _I_ made mistakes, and we need to determine what to do going forward. It would be best if you came along with us."

"Why should I go with you. I just want to go home with Mitch and Gwen," he said anxiously.

" _We_ should go with them James," Gwen said. "I promise we'll be there every step of the way. But they're magic like you. There are things we won't be able to help you with, things we won't be able to understand."

He looked unconvinced, but nodded nonetheless. If Mitchell wasn't voicing disagreement with her it must be a good course of action.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily at Harry's acceptance. "Come now Harry. I know you can Apparate, but one cannot Apparate to Hogwarts so we'll-" he started to say.

"Oh no you don't Dumbledore," Lucius said quickly. "We came to take the boy home to his _real_ family. Besides, is it really wise to whisk him away to a massive, magical castle? Something a bit tamer is in order given all of, well, _this_ ," he gestured at the wrecked surroundings.

Moody snorted. "And I suppose you think that gaudy manor of yours is just tame enough, eh Malfoy?" he said sarcastically. "Like hell we're handing over Potter of all people to a dark wizard like yourself. You can put on all the airs you like, but some marks just don't come off."

Before the bickering could continue, Harry palmed his forehead as he was hit with a terrible feeling of exhaustion. Hours of running, stress and repeated magic usage were taking their toll on him. He fell to the ground taking deep breaths before quickly passing out.

"Oh damn," McGonagall said. She briskly made her way to Harry's side and began casting the few diagnostic charms she knew. There was an indication that he had slightly splinched himself and she didn't need magic to see the boy was enormously exhausted. However, any ill-effects from his near transformation to an Obscurial was beyond her ability to detect.

"He needs a Mediwizard, Albus, a specialist of some sort."

Interrupting the man before he could speak, Andromeda suggested, "My younger cousin Lyra is works at the Spell Damage ward at St. Mungos. She's discrete and she and her husband's home is away from prying eyes."

"If only we didn't have to put up with _Goldenboy_ ," Ted muttered to himself. Lucius, however, heard him and groaned at the realization that he too would have to 'grace' the presence of the up-and-coming wizard Ted had mentioned. It was to require a strong drink to survive.

Dumbledore accepted the recommendation; he was far more comfortable trusting Andromeda's selection than an arbitrary healer who might give them away to the _Prophet_ for a few galleons. And while he trusted Poppy instinctually, this wasn't a malady she was likely to have a timely curative for, if one existed at all, and Harry's inner darkness was very concerning for him.

Dumbledore turned back to the uneasy Muggle children and said, "As I was saying, we'll be using an object called a Portkey to transport to our destination. Andromeda, would you do the honors?"

Ignoring the illegality of their actions, Andromeda grabbed a nearby broken chair leg and pointed her wand at it. " _Portus_." The wooden leg glowed blue for a second. In the meantime, Narcissa was contacting Lyra who, despite being irritable after a 3 a.m. mirror-call, was more than happy to heal her injured second-cousin.

"As Albus has things under control, I'll be taking my leave now to get some sleep after this circus" Moody spat. If the massaging of the area near his severed leg was any indication, he was not taking well to having moved around so much the last twelve hours. "Don't let your guard down 'round this lot, not for second." His warning given, the auror Disapparated to rest.

"Everyone grab ahold," Dumbledore said to the two muggles, who carried the unconscious Harry between them to the enchanted table leg. Once the ten people grabbed the Portkey, they were hooked by the magic and transported to their destination.

* * *

 **(Office of The Daily Prophet, Unspeakably Early Morning)**

Rita Skeeter wouldn't normally be at the office at just past three in the morning, but even she had to lose sleep when there was a deadline to meet.

To the British wizarding population she was the ruthless reporter with a penchant for making fools of the well-known witch or wizard. Fudge in particular had it in for her after her expose on his recent blunder with the Soviet Minister of Magic, complete with a difficult-to-obtain photograph of Fudge disrespecting a foreign magical monument by making sick all over it. But to the editor of the paper she may as well be the sole source of profit for the paper given the popularity of the pieces she provided. Sure, she technically stretched the truth from time to time, but so long as most of it was near the truth enough, the errors could be excused as mistakes or even as arguably the truth. The continued profitability of her work certainly didn't hurt things.

Rita ran a well-manicured hand through her wavy, blonde hair as she unlocked her office door, only to notice an envelope on her desk once inside.

"Hang on, the post-elf doesn't deliver until midday," she said in suspicion. It wouldn't be the first time she'd received jinxed or cured postage from an angry reader or subject of her articles. But then again, it also wouldn't be the first time she'd received a tip at a late hour, away from prying eyes.

Rita pulled out her wand and cast a Shield Charm around herself, just in case. The barrier wasn't very strong but it'd have to do. Directing her wand at the envelope, she cut the postage open, with a letter and photograph falling out of the opening.

When nothing happened, she cancelled her charm and read the letter.

Her eyebrows scrunched at the contents. "Oh bullshit, there's no way…" she said.

The letter read:

" _Harry Potter has run away and is now missing. I'd best see this in the papers soon or we'll be having an unpleasant meeting. I'll be watching."_

Rita snorted at the threat. Not that she had a death wish, but if she wasn't one to be cowed into submission by a bit of paper.

She picked up the accompanying photo and had to do a double-take.

The occupant, scar and all, was unmistakably Harry Potter. If it was fake, it was compelling. He was the right age, and the spitting image of his father. Magical photos were difficult to fake convincingly and this one definitely passed her muster. She did find it odd that the boy seemed to be hurt I the picture, given his wincing and crying.

Rita thought for a minute. "I suppose I could always look into this. He lived somewhere in the Muggle world, so if he's really missing there's bound to be evidence of it there."

She glanced at the letter again. "I'm not sure why they want this to get out. Good Samaritan or not, this might be just the story I need to put Fudge out," she said with devilish smirk.

 **(Lockhart Residence, Winding Hollow)**

"Oooh, he is a cute one, isn't he?" Lyra squealed after Dumbledore carefully levitated the unconscious Harry into the spare room of her two-story Georgian-style home.

The room was your bog-standard guest room, devoid of furniture and decoration aside from the queen-sized bed and small bedside table; she'd convinced her husband that a portrait of himself to keep guests company was not the best idea. She could hear him regaling some of their guests with his most recent adventure over in Wagga Wagga, while her aunt Minerva and her cousins Andromeda and Narcissa followed Dumbledore into the room. She'd had to temporarily disable the Muggle-repelling ward surrounding their property to allow the muggle boy and girl in. The two had gone to bed in another of their guest rooms once Dumbledore assured the two he'd wake them as soon as Harry's condition improved.

Lyra was overjoyed to see her little second-cousin in-person. With the war going on and her having been in her last year of Hogwarts, James hadn't thought it safe to bring Harry out of the presumed safety of their cottage in Godric's Hollow. The baby pictures he sent her were far too cute, it had been a crime to not get to see in person. His messy black hair was practically identical to her deceased cousin's; she ruffled it fondly.

Lyra frowned when she saw dried blood caked onto her cousin's hands and feared for what sort of damage she would find. As she worked her magic to detect the most pressing damage and looked him over physically - his shirt and jeans having been Vanished to save time - Lyra asked, "What am I looking for? It looks as though he was splinched a bit and his nerves seem…" she trailed off as she recognized the type of curse he must have been hit with given the tell-tale traces of spellwork on his nervous system, damage she was all too familiar with detecting. "He was _cruciated_?" she nearly shouted.

Dumbledore nodded stiffly, acknowledging her conclusion. "He was lured in by an unknown Death Eater, I'm sad to say. Alastor got to him shortly afterward but by then the damage had been done."

Lyra had to use every ounce of self-control she had not to foolishly hex the headmaster on the spot for failing to keep Harry safe. She recalled quite well how her attempts to locate Harry after Voldemort's defeat were eventually met were stern obstructions by Dumbledore that doing so might lead remnants of the Dark Lord's forces to the area in which Harry lived. She hadn't handled it well.

Trying to forget her annoyance at the man, she attempted to wake Harry with a few flavors of Enlivening Charms, but none had any apparent effect; he remained as still and unresponsive as before.

"This sleep of his was magically induced, of that I'm sure. He's practically vegetative. Obviously something is wrong, but the cause doesn't appear to be related to his physical health," she said sadly.

Dumbledore hesitated briefly before saying, "Andromeda tells me you're very discrete and in any case I'm hoping you've loyalty enough to family to keep this secret." He had hoped she might be able to restore Harry without needing to inform anyone that he didn't have to.

"I'd never purposefully hurt sweet little Harry." She pouted at the insinuation and pinched the boy's cheek for added effect. She healed Harry's splinched nipple and soothed his remaining aches and pains as best she could; time alone could lay to rest the effects off the Cruciatus Curse. But as she could find no biological explanation for his unconsciousness, she switched to diagnosing his mind using medically-focused Animency.

Her results were striking in the contradictory information they gave. There was some sort of… _taint_ in Harry and it went deep, maybe further than just a mental affliction. Lyra _almost_ wished she knew an Animentic spell to cause it to react, but alas, it remained dormant despite her failed attempts to analyze it. The Dark Arts had a pleasing aesthetic that had enthralled her for as long as she remembered. It was even partly what had drawn her to Gilderoy in her sixth-year at Hogwarts.

Oddly, there was something else present within Harry in addition to the taint. An extraordinarily positive magic was about him that she couldn't make head nor tails of, but she could tell it went even deeper than the taint. ' _Perhaps it's shielding him from it?'_ she thought. As far as she could tell, this dark magic wasn't always as active as it apparently was earlier, so Lyra could only conclude some new change allowed it to briefly thrive.

"Now are you going to tell me what you know about what happened to him or will I have to jinx it out of you?" Lyra asked Dumbledore testily. "Damn the secrecy, time is of the essence."

"He nearly developed an Obscurus, Mrs. Lockhart," Dumbledore said gravely. "A trick of fate saved him from the transformation, but I fear if we wait much longer it may return for good."

Lyra's eyes sparkled at the mention of the suitably obscure dark parasite. "An Obscurus you say? That explains the dark entity I detected within his psyche. Why, I-I'd give my left bap to see something that rare and-"

"Lyra, we didn't bring him here to be poked and prodded…," Narcissa said in an annoyed tone. She was about ready to jinx Lyra for slowing down her treatment to wax on about the 'eternal beauty of dark magic'.

Lyra waved off her older cousin unconcernedly. "Don't get your knickers in a twist Narcy, I'd never do that to cute little baby cousins. Annoying _older_ cousins are yet to be determined, however," she said with a menacing gleam in her eyes. "I'll be back in moment, I need to gather a couple of things for what I hope will result in a successful treatment."

While the she was gone, Dumbledore frowned as he pondered the results the woman reported. ' _Stranger and stranger. As the Obscurus did not truly manifest, there shouldn't be a coherent entity within Harry's mind and yet she and I both detected one… I can only hope Lily's enchantment will hold it off long enough to puzzle it out. He's the only one who can defeat Voldemort.'_

A few minutes later, Lyra returned to the spare room carrying a small vial filled with a dark green liquid and bundle of slimy leaves that resembled seaweed, save for their almost black coloration. Lyra proceeded to cover Harry's head with the murkroot, particularly over the boy's famous scar. Murkoot grew in the presence of Dark magic and in areas where Dark creatures lived, thriving on the negative magic they imbibed from being near them. It was even the source of the dark color. It was rather questionable to use the plant medically given the plant's propensity to poison those who are in contact with it for long periods of time. Lyra had needed to acquire it from a seedy establishment in Knockturn Alley for some of her personal research. The preliminary results indicated that it _could_ be used to negate the effects of some Curses on living beings, but the plant would quickly begin harming the living tissue surrounding it. A bit of 'cure is worse than the poison', unfortunately.

Moving out of the way so the other four occupants of the room could see what she had done, Lyra said, "Well ladies - and gent - this is foreign territory. I've not heard of any magic psychological parasite before, and certainly never treated one. But as it is causing Harry to remain unconscious I need to act quickly or risk this state being permanent or otherwise damaging his mind."

Andromeda frowned at the substance she saw covering the top of Harry's head. "Is that _murkroot_ , Lyra?" At her cousin's nod she nearly ran to tear it off him as she hissed, "But it's highly poisonous. Have you finally gone completely mad?"

Lyra intercepted Andromeda with her arm and said, "Andy it's the only way I can get out whatever happened when he nearly became an Obscurial. Once the murkroot has done its job pulling the parasite out I should be able to awaken him with this Wiggenweld Potion, or at the very least pull him out of this coma." She shook the vial of green liquid in front of Andromeda's face for emphasis. Although torn, Andromeda seemed to accept her words as she sighed deeply and returned to Narcissa's side.

Dumbledore sensed that the mediwitch had things under control as she began casting charms to inform her of the progress of her treatment. "I believe Mrs. Lockhart has things under control here. Minerva, Narcissa, Andromeda. Perhaps we should have mercy for Lucius and Theodore?" he asked jovially. "As talented as Gilderoy is, he has been known - to put it diplomatically - to be a world-class showboat."

As the four of them entered the sitting room, they caught the end of Gilderoy's tale. "...And _that_ was how apprehended the Voluptuous Vampire of Voluntari. Yet another town to forever remember me as the hero who courageously fought off a frighteningly ferocious fiend. Alas, I had to turn down a sizable number of requests to father children with the women there. I am, after all, a one-woman man." When the young, handsome wizard flashed his too-white smile, the plastered-looking Lucius and Ted looked looked horrified that they might be the continued focus of his attention.

Narcissa took pity on them and said in false interest, "Gilderoy, you simply must tell me about this shampoo Lyra said you'd concocted. I hear it's simply fabulous."

If only she knew how long the man could go on about hair care products.

* * *

 **(November 19th, 1988, One Day Later)**

Harry's return to consciousness was prompted by the sunlight that fell on him from the open shutters of the window beside him. He didn't immediately open his eyes, wanting to fall back asleep after all that had happened the night before. He knew if he opened his eyes, he'd have to deal with it and that would make it real. Maybe he could just stay asleep…

"I hate the sun…," he muttered after sleep proved too elusive, despite his groggy, barely awake state.

Bed? Whatever bed he was sleeping in was far too comfortable to be anything he, Gwen or Mitchell had, which means they had to be somewhere else. Harry's eyes opened and he quickly sat and took a look at his surroundings. He was in a sparse room painted in a light green paint that was pleasing to the eyes. He was about to get out of to see just where his friends had taken him when he noticed the weight on his bed.

Near his knees was a head of long, jet black hair laid on the bed while sitting in a chair that had been sat beside the bed he had slept in. The woman it belonged to was asleep, breathing lightly into her crossed arms as she rested. Harry didn't recognize the woman but wasn't interested in finding out. He quietly slipped out of the bed without rousing her and tip-toed towards the closed door behind her. He still felt quite drained after the day before, but well enough to move around carefully. His head was aching quite a bit, however.

Unfortunately, once he'd gotten a few feet from the bed there was a moderately loud rooster call that came out of nowhere and it caused the sleeping woman to jump up in surprise.

"Wussat?" she said, startled. She turned and saw Harry, whose hair turned light pink to match his blush at being caught. She squealed before saying, "You're awake!"

Harry closed his eyes, expecting to be hurt or at least berated by the mystery woman rushing towards him. What he didn't expect was the strong hug she gave him, much less her rubbing her cheeks on his hair. He stiffened a bit, as he wasn't sure how to respond.

"I'm so glad you're OK, Harry. We weren't sure when you'd wake, you've been asleep for over a day," Lyra said. She kissed his hair before releasing the embrace, embarrassing him further. "Oh and you look _adorable_ in pink, dearie."

"Oh, um, right. Thanks," he muttered as he metamorphed his hair back to normal. "Not to be rude, but who are you? Where am I? Where are Gwen and Mitch?" The woman seemed nice enough, and at the very least he didn't seem to be in danger, but he'd much rather find his friends and leave.

Lyra pointed at herself and said, "Me? Oh Harry, I'm your aunt Lyra. Well, OK not _technically_ your aunt but do I really need to say 'second-cousin'? Who cares about the specifics of our monstrous family tree. Family is family and that's that." She nodded at what she was sure were words of wisdom.

Harry stared at her for a moment and took a cautious step backward. "You're not taking me back to the Dursleys, you won't. I'll fight you if you try." His heart began to beat faster at the prospect of seeing his aunt and uncle and cousin once more. "I'd rather die than go back to them."

Lyra raised her arms and began to speak in a calm voice. "No no, Harry. Not those muggles, I'm part of your father's family. James Potter was my cousin, which makes you my second cousin."

Harry stopped his retreat when he heard her mention muggles. "Are you magic, like me?" he said in a hopeful voice.

Lyra pulled her wand out and said, "Magic indeed!" When Harry spotted her wand, he froze up for a moment, afraid of what his cousin might do with it. But when she conjured a small green snake out of thin air to lay around her shoulders, his anxiety seemed to retreat. Snakes were surprisingly nice animals in Harry's experience.

Lyra, perhaps, should have considered that most children would be afraid at the sight of a snake, but when Harry came up and began petting the snake she continued on, blissfully unaware of her potential mistake.

"Wow, you can magick up a snake? I wish I knew how to do that," Harry said in awe.

Lyra was surprised to see the snake take an interest in the boy. She had intended to conjure a snake with a placid personality to safely prove her point. It began hissing at him, making her worry she had bungled the spell. But when Harry began hissing back at it him without breaking a sweat, the snake would respond after he finished. Her eyes widened at what he was doing.

"Your snake is really nice, aunt Lyra," he said while sporting a grin. "She says she likes my eyes."

"Harry, you're a Parslem-" she began when the door to the room was opened abruptly.

"What's going on here?" Minerva said in hushed tones as she walked in. Spotting Harry, she whispered, "he's awake..."

Harry made an "eep!" sound, hid behind Lyra and peeked out to see the new woman. She was taller than Lyra and looked a good bit older if her slightly graying brown hair was any indication. He was a bit unnerved to see tears in her eyes. Had he done something wrong?

"It's OK, Harry," Lyra said. She patted his head and continued, "That's your great aunt… I think? She can be nice when she wants to. Saturdays are her off day so you're in luck today, I should think."

"Oh. Um, I'm Ja-Harry," he stammered.

McGonagall knelt down next to Lyra and smiled to try and put him at ease. "I'm Minerva," she said kindly. After wiping the tears from her eyes she said, "Would you like to come see everyone? You gave us and your Muggle friends quite a scare."

"Gwen and Mitch are here?" Harry asked hopefully. His nervousness the meeting another unknown adult diminished.

She nodded. "It's a bit early so most are having a lay in. I'll go and rouse everyone for you."

While Harry waited for the woman to return, he turned to Lyra, nervously scratching his arm. "Are they mad at me for running away?"

She shook her head 'no'. "We all were just worried about you. But now that you're back on your feet, would you like to go and meet some more family? They won't bite, promise." She winked.

* * *

After hugs and cries of relief between Harry and his friends, adults Harry had not yet seen began appearing from various rooms, evidently having been asleep. Some seemed quite nice, like the pretty brunette with long wavy hair and the man with her, who had shortly cut brown hair; both had nice smiles that made him feel comfortable. Next were a blonde pair. The woman had shoulder-length, platinum blonde hair, and her husband's hair was equally long, though a darker blonde. They seemed nice enough, but their more subdued and composed facial features made Harry suspect they often needed to present a mask of sorts to the world at large. He could empathize with that necessity.

The last was a young, well-groomed man with wavy blonde hair who appeared to have spent a good deal of time that morning ensuring not a hair was out of place and was as lush as possible. He briefly smiled at Harry, who nearly found himself blinded by the brilliant whites of the man's unnaturally perfect smile. He stood next to his aunt Lyra, so Harry assumed they, like the other couples, we're married. It took him a moment, but he soon recognized they were the people he saw in the farmhouse he had hidden in a couple days earlier.

Harry was situated with Gwen and Mitchell on one side of a long, rectangular table used for formal dinings, while his new family sat on the other, with Minerva having just joined them. After introducing themselves, neither side seemed sure how to break the ice with the young boy. Lucius would occasionally glance at the Muggles beside Harry until Ted raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh say something already, won't you. You're going to frighten him off being so stiff," Lyra said after neither side seemed to know how to break the ice.

"Right you are," Narcissa said in embarrassment. She looked at Harry and let her face relax. "It's hard to know what to say Harry, but we're glad you're OK given all you've been through. Lyra spent nearly six hours operating on you before you were through the worst of it."

"W-what happened to me?" Harry asked. "It felt like my magic turned against me, I couldn't stop it…"

After Lyra explained his near transformation to something called an Obscurial, Harry was relieved that she had saved him. He just wished he'd been able to do the same with Cameron…

McGonagall leaned forward to get his attention. "Harry, could you tell us where you've been? We were quickly alerted when you disappeared from your aunt and uncle's house."

Harry talked at length about what he had been up to since June. There were a few times Harry had to stop and explain how was getting around. The adults were floored at the ease at which he was able to control his magic. Lucius questioned if he could really do what he claimed, so Harry Summoned a book from a shelf on the wall as a demonstration. His explanation that he had recently learned from goblins led to a number of stares, though Harry didn't understand why.

"So what happens now? Aunt Lyra says you're not sending me back to my Uncle Vernon," Harry said in a quiet voice.

Andromeda said, "We were planning to adopt you, Harry. James - your father - was our cousin. We'd be more than happy to adopt you, if you wished to."

Harry was elated by the suggestion. He'd thought the only family he had left wasn't worth bothering with. If he'd known he had a magical family out there, he'd have sought them out months ago.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," McGonagall said.

Narcissa and Andromeda frowned at the her words. "And why not?" Andromeda asked icily.

"Because I was one of the guardians named by James and Lily, none of you were. And while I don't doubt your intentions Andromeda, certain _others_ aren't particularly known for selfless philanthropy." McGonagall stared down the Malfoys, daring them to deny their political tendencies.

"Actually Minerva, I agree with my sister's goals in this case. If you stopped and listened before jumping to conclusions perhaps you would as well," Andromeda shot back.

The professor snorted. "And those goals would be?"

"We're going to start a family coven and take on Morgana as the family goddess. We planned to seek you out soon anyway," Narcissa answered. "I know your father was ever the proud Christian-"

"And my mother, bless her, ensured that I understood father's odd deity and beliefs were not a requirement in our household," she waved off. "Just look at my namesake. I was brought up in the old ways just as you were. What I haven't been told is why this is necessary. Albus was quite suspicious of this gathering and I'm beginning to see why."

Lucius rose to the challenge, seeing as McGonagall would be another asset to the coven. "Dumbledore is currently at a summit for the International Confederation of Wizards covering an issue that explains the necessity of this."

McGonagall seemed surprised at this and gestured at Lucius to continue.

"The Dark Lord is not vanquished as many foolishly deluded themselves into believing. Worse, the blood supremacy movement he champions is spreading on the continent, Bulgaria especially. There are even some indications that it's gained a small foothold over in the States. The signs are the same as they were here: A substantial increase in public support for domination over Muggles, sporadic but rising street violence against prominent citizens who seek a more peaceful coexistence and moves to rapidly reshape governmental bodies and policies towards the ultra-conservative end," Lucius summarized. "Having been unwillingly part of it before, I can say that we don't have long to begin making decisive moves to mitigate and build a coalition against this before it becomes worse than it ever was before. With a coven, we can quickly jump-start our efforts and attain powerful protections for our families, including Harry. Dumbledore is brilliant and knows many people, but he lacks the political inclinations and organizational infrastructure to develop a preemptive _political_ response of the appropriate sort. That's what we are proposing."

"Well you can count me in, obviously," Lyra said with devilish smirk. "Coven rituals allow for some devious enchantments once you've completed the required steps. You'll help me with those, won't you Gil?" she asked while tugging on his earlobe playfully.

Gilderoy chuckled at his wife's innuendo. "Why I do believe I can allow for some openings in my busy schedule. One must make sacrifices to hold true to their religious commitments." Andromeda gagged.

As she twirled a crow pendant hanging around her neck, Lyra said in a more serious tone, "Besides, it's not as if we need to get along swimmingly for this to work out. The benefits of calling on blessed magic makes up for some familial, er, awkwardness… goodness this bloody family is too mad for its own good."

"I still believe it to be foolish to discount Albus," McGonagall said. "He has widespread support and is the only one You-Know-Who ever feared."

Lucius accepted her words with a nod. "And for all that, what has he done in the previous seven years to ensure the Dark Lord and his supporters do not retake power? Did he use his political allies to draft legislation to substantially deter the Twenty-eight from supporting such fanatical ideologies? Has he, perhaps, taken the office of Minister of Magic?"

McGonagall sighed and shook her head, so Lucius pressed on. "I don't mean to berate the man or tear down your respect for him. I don't pretend to understand why he doesn't capitalize on his popularity to take power for causes he believes in. But whatever those reasons are, they won't do us any good once… Voldemort regains his former might."

McGonagall's lips thinned as she considered Lucius's words.

' _It wasn't entirely unreasonable and the unrest elsewhere in Europe was a concern, even more so if You-Know-Who was behind it somehow,'_ she thought. And as much a McGonagall had tried to distance herself from her mother and grandmother's family due to their dark reputation, she couldn't hold Narcissa and Andromeda accountable for having a malicious prick of a father.

As the silence dragged on, Harry - who had been listening to the exchange in confusion - said, "Am I getting adopted or not?"

This brought the attention back to the boy, who'd been briefly lost in the shuffle.

"Yes," McGonagall said.

"Good because Mitch and Gwen are going wherever I go-" he began.

"Yes to both," McGonagall continued, nodding at Lucius. "I'd like to think I'm sufficient to raise Harry in James and Lily's stead, but I've never raised a child before. If nothing else, the coven will make it easier on both Harry and I."

"That is excellent news," Lucius said in obvious relief. "With you we have ten of the needed thirteen. Augusta Longbottom and Carina Crouch were the next we intend to seek out."

McGonagall agreed with the selections. At the very least, Augusta's position on the Wizengamot would give them greater political pull for their efforts there, but Carina was interesting.

"Why Crouch, if I may ask? Her her husband Bartemius is highly placed of course, but his star has somewhat faded and who's to say he would be okay with his wife joining our number? A Covenant Ritual isn't something Crouch would ever allow himself association with, even by virtue of his wife." McGonagall's face bore a very skeptical expression, one which the others understood.

Lucius coughed into his fist nervously. "Crouch is quite… averse to the Dark Arts in many respects, I'll grant you that. But as he proved in the War, he will make concessions where necessary. With their son dead and their daughter not much younger than Draco, I believe we can convince them of the benefits of this."

McGonagall shook her head. "The Crouches are well-protected, and not many would even dream of attacking their home considering Bartemius's own magical power. What could we offer he and Carina that they can't obtain themselves?"

Lucius smirked. It wasn't often he got to engage with such a sharp intellectual in conversation. "With a bit cunning and preparation, I can help Crouch get what he has long desired but been denied: the position of Minister of Magic."

Save for Narcissa, every adult's eyes widened at his declaration. But just then Harry groaned in impatience due to being forgotten about again.

Andromeda had an interesting idea. "Harry, would you like to meet my daughter? She's at school but we can call her home from school. She's very similar to you," she said with sweet smile.

Harry figured whoever this person was, they couldn't be as boring as whatever the rest of his new family was talking about. He got up and followed Andromeda toward the living room, with Gwen and Mitch in tow. "Can she do any cool magic spells or something?"

Andromeda ruffled Harry's hair before grabbing a fistful of green powder Harry didn't recognize from a tray beside the fireplace. "It's a surprise. Just don't get too carried away, Nymphadora doesn't have an ounce of self-control when she starts having fun."

While Andromeda was off occupying Harry, Lucius and the others wrapped up their conversation regarding how to persuade Crouch. Gilderoy had left the dining room to pick up the morning edition of the _Prophet_ , while Lyra left to draw a warm bath after a long night sleeping in an awkward position. Lucius was sitting quietly with Narcissa, but had not yet voiced his intentions to her regarding the Muggles accompanying Harry; they would have to distanced from the boy somewhat, for their own good.

McGonagall sat in the unoccupied chair beside Lucius and asked, "What's in this for you personally? To be frank, you are the quintessential politician."

Lucius closed his eyes and briefly considered how to answer her. "My family's safety and the future success of my son. He's not likely to survive long in life - none of us are - if we're having to worry about situations like this threatening our lives routinely."

"So you expect me to take your noble intentions as the sole reason?" McGonagall scoffed. "Please Lucius, I'm not some delusional voter you're trying to charm."

"Oh goodness me, no. The windfall I can expect is substantial. By comparison, the chaos whipped up by Voldemort would leave my family's financial future in jeopardy." He laughed slightly before saying, "Besides, I did recently vote to extend wand-bearing rights to goblins come New Years. I don't make a habit of giving charity."

McGonagall had no doubt Lucius was being honest there; surprisingly, his reasons didn't annoy her. She assumed it was because it worked for the benefit of those she cared about as well.

"We have a problem," Gilderoy said as he walked into the room looking uncharacteristically distressed, a frown marring his usually cheerful face. When he set down the morning's _Prophet_ , the reason was apparent.

 _BOY-WHO-LIVED: KIDNAPPED OR KILLED?_

 _This intrepid reporter received an anonymous tip that Harry Potter, vanquisher of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, has been taken by dark forces unknown and hasn't been seen for months. The reader, no doubt, wonders how this can be if they're only hearing about it now? The answer is as simple as it is typical._

 _Politics._

 _Muggle records indicate Mr. Potter was kidnapped from the home of his Muggle relatives near the start of June, the same time as which the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - at the behest of one Albus Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic himself - made several discrete moves to keep this news quiet so as to save face._

 _But can we really trust such authority figures who cannot even keep a boy safe? One who miraculously overcame a terror like no other? And then proceed to lie about their failures by omission? Let the following exclusive photograph serve as proof enough of the incompetencies of our Minster, Cornelius Fudge, and the questionable decision-making abilities of our Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore. The fate of Mr. Potter is unknown at present._

Below the headline was a picture of Harry on the ground, clearly in agony and helpless against his attacker.

"Bloody hell," Lucius said in frustration. The last thing they needed was to be forced to play their hand so soon. But this needed to be contradicted before the populace panicked in some fashion. Still, this could work to their favor...

* * *

 **(Unknown Location in Spain)**

A young, handsome man with short brown hair sat alone in his base of operations in northern Spain. The small home was hidden from the prying Muggles. He was consuming his simple breakfast of eggs, bacon and a glass of cool milk when the post-owl arrived. Despite being in foreign lands, he was still able to receive prominent newspapers from abroad thanks specific allowances made for Portkey use by media companies. As owls were much too slow to spread important news across continents quickly, major news agencies were allowed limited use of reusable international Portkeys to send copies of such news to be disseminated elsewhere.

The young man pulled out his precious wand and was briefly entranced by it. It was practically part of him. He delicately to summon the paper to his hand. As he read the headline, his blank expression quickly morphed into something resembling extreme happiness, though to most it would seem a demented look.

"Most excellent," the young man said to himself. "He's not dead, of that I am sure. But how to get to him?" He pondered what to do with the information.

' _Even with this development, there's little chance I could get to the boy easily. Dumbledore will be on the lookout for anything even remotely suspicious.'_ he thought.

The hooting of the post-owl broke him from his musings. Though tempted to curse the owl, he knew news agencies kept track of which owls were delivering to which consumer. No sense in drawing attention to himself.

 _Mr. Sayre,_

 _Our records indicate your subscription to The Daily Prophet is to be terminated if you do not pay after the delivery of this morning's edition. Please pay as soon as possible so as to keep yourself abreast of the goings on, courtesy of number one recommended newspaper in the United Kingdom!_

The young man snorted and deposited to require amount of money into the envelope tied to the post-owl's leg and watched it set off.

"We'll see how this progresses first before acting overtly."

* * *

Next chapter: **The Coven of Albion**

 **(A/N):** What'd you think? **Review, favorite and Follow**!. Sorry for the late post, busy busy. I had some issues with this chapter, but I decided to post it anyway. Next chapter should be put together a bit better, and the plot can get moving better.

Note: "Animency" is just what I'm calling all spells that deal with affecting the mind.


	6. Chapter 6: The Coven of Albion

**(A/N):** Last chapter wasn't as popular in new follows and favorites (the rate of new follows dropped by 1/3rd or 1/4th). *sad* Maybe last chapter wasn't very good, or maybe posting it at like 2am wasn't a smart move on my part. Either way, I'll try to do better.

That aside, as you may have noticed I changed the title of this story from the generic "Break the Limits" to the more descriptive "The Coven of Albion", which incidentally is also the title of this chapter. I also updated the summary a bit to be more detailed and added the last character to the tags.

Anyway, **Favorite** and **Follow** if you enjoyed this new readers, and drop a **Review** with your thoughts~

* * *

 **(November 19, Lockhart Residence)**

Harry sat patiently on the living room sofa as his aunt Andromeda used green magic powder to call someone at the magic school she had mentioned. When she explained what she was doing, he questioned why they couldn't simply use the telephone. Apparently there was too much magic in the air for electronic devices to work near magic schools. Who knew.

In the meantime, Harry began playing with his magic since Gwen and Mitchell had gone outside to stretch their legs for a bit. It was an activity that always comforted Harry since he discovered his abilities. He created a small ball of flame above his right hand and began moving his hands around to change the shape of the flame to various animals and insects. A small flaming bird began flying around the living room for Harry's entertainment, weaving around the lights and lamps situated about the room. He expected Andromeda to ask him to stop, but she seemed to find the sight funny for some reason.

"Enjoying yourself, Harry?" asked Andromeda as she watched him demonstrate his ease of control over his magical abilities.

Harry nodded as he altered the shape of it from a bird to a galloping horse. "It helps. Makes me feel, I dunno, more in control so I don't freeze up if something happens."

Andromeda would have been surprised by this had she not known what he'd been through. "You know you're safe with us, don't you?" she asked sadly.

Harry shrugged his shoulders a bit and mumbled a reply that Andromeda couldn't hear.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I said I don't really know any of you, so I don't know what to think…" he said quietly. He didn't want to meet Andromeda's eyes as he said it.

At that moment, the emerald flames from before roared back into the fireplace. A person, a young woman, slowly stepped out of the fire. It was a bizarre sight, but by this point Harry was just about numb to how odd magic was.

"Where's the fire, Mum?" the pink-haired girl said, giving Andromeda a confused look. "Professor Sprout wasn't sharing details. I should be upset; I was _this_ close to snogging this cute Ravenclaw- who's this?" the mystery girl asked abruptly when she spotted Harry on the couch.

Harry didn't catch Andromeda introducing the girl, nor her reaction to learning who he was. He was too busy blushing at how pretty she was.

"Aunt Lyra was right, pink hair is cute," he mumbled. And then there were her eyes- gold like a lion's and bright in a way that immediately drew one's attention. That said, Harry was pretty sure the girl still had cooties.

"What was that?" the new girl asked.

"Huh?" Harry said. Too distracted to give a proper reply, he rubbed his reddening hair nervously. "Sorry, who are you again?"

The girl snapped her fingers and said, "Well I'll be, another Metamorphmagus in the family! Say no more. And it's Tonks, let no one tell you any different."

Andromeda pouted at Tonks. "You're never going to forgive me for your name, are you Nymphadora?"

Tonks ignored her mother and began to metamorph her appearance to mimic Harry's. It took a few tries until it felt right, but she copied his wild black hair in after a few moments. Mirroring faces was very easy for Tonks, even without having to direct her magic on him to do a Polymorph. Height was a different story. It was the first time she'd changed how tall she was more than a few inches beyond normal; Harry was quite a bit shorter than she was due to the large age gap. To prevent herself from slipping out of her clothes, she waved her wand to shrink the clothes along with her transformation, keeping them the proper size.

"Ta-da!" Tonks said happily, twirling around. "Meet Harry's twin brother, er, Larry. We've been apart too long, brother. Let us show the world we transforming Potters are a force to be reckoned with!"

Harry was stunned. He knew technically there were other metamorphmagi besides himself, but Burmog had always talked as if it were more likely to rain galleons than to meet two. And she was able to switch from a girl to a boy with no issue…

"How'd you do that?" asked Harry.

Tonks waved off his question and said, "Oh come on, I know you're a Metamorphmagus too. Have you not practiced it much? It's a bit disorienting starting out but you'll pick it up soon en-"

Harry shook his head and said shyly, "No, I mean, how did you… switch like that?"

Tonks tilted her 'Larry' head - a sight almost too bizarre for Harry - and asked, "How d'you mean?"

Harry blushed at bit a glanced at Andromeda nervously. He got up and walked to his copycat and whispered in her (his?) ear. "You know. How'd you turn into a boy without the… issue? I tried to copycat a woman once and something went really really wrong..."

Tonks blanked for a moment before her eyes widened and she blushed a deep red. "Oh my, did you… that is too say… oh I can't do this, I'm not old yet. Only old people should have this responsibility..."

Harry made his cutest pout to try and weaken her resolve. Tonks didn't seem to be fazed by it, but after a few moments she sighed and made to whisper back.

"Look, do _not_ Polymorph into someone if you can avoid it. It let's you do a perfect imitation like a Polyjuice Potion, but the copy is a bit too good. You mimic their entire body by focusing your magic on them, so a lot can go wrong if you pick the wrong person… or the wrong time," she said into Harry's ear. "I didn't change _everything_ , just, you know, my head and height."

Harry wanted to ask why he had to worry about the time when he wanted to 'polymorph' into a woman, but didn't bother since Tonks seemed to clam up about it. Teenagers were weird, obviously.

"Ok ok, I got it. But, why don't we see who's the best at metamorphing Tonks!" Harry said. He quickly took on the look he recalled her having when she entered. But since he didn't have his suitcase with spare clothes for larger bodies, he couldn't adjust his height very much. Unlike Tonks, he didn't know how to change the size of his clothing, so the result was an odd sort of mini-Tonks. Andromeda "Aww"-ed at the sight.

Andromeda laughed as she saw the two start what would clearly become a rivalry of sorts. She turned to leave the room to meet with the others. They had much to do and not a long time to do it.

Gwen and Mitchell were very confused when the walked in minutes later, only to come across the two shapeshifters flipping through different identities at the drop of a hat.

* * *

 **(November 24th 1988, 4 Days Later, Department of International Magic Cooperation office)**

Bartemius Crouch Sr. was sitting in his office with his wife, Carina. His Wizengamot colleague, Malfoy, had all but demanded a meeting with him and his wife, oddly enough. He was lucky to have found spare time that evening; after the revelation that Harry Potter had been spirited away to places unknown and likely injured, the Ministry had been frantic from top to bottom. There had been a near endless stream of angry letters and Howlers owled to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and even Fudge himself demanding that action be taken. Most irritatingly and stunning of all was the piece that appeared in the _Prophet_ the day after the piece on the Potter boy.

Bagnold had given a statement to the paper and all but said the Ministry had gone to the dogs after she stepped down as the Minister and Fudge took office after her, and that under her the Ministry would never had let such a thing happen to a national hero.

Fudge had been enraged by the article and had spent much of that the day before ranting all over the place about 'Has beens making things political after being shown the door'. He had called meetings with various Department Heads clamoring to squash the Prophet until Crouch firmly reminded him of the illegality of the proposal. Well, he'd had never thought Fudge apt for the position he so desperately sought. First the public debacle with their Soviet counterparts and now this. Fudge's term looked to be short if such trends held. If only...

He snapped out of his ruminations, suddenly clenching his fist. It didn't do to dwell on dead dreams of the past, especially given what his own drive and inattentiveness had cost he and his wife. At that thought, he slowly uncurled his hand.

"I do wonder why Lucius called for the both of us. Any ideas, dear?" Carina inquired curiously while running a hand through her long brown hair.

Bartemius shook his head. "I haven't the faintest. I do wish he'd get here soon, this Potter case is blooming into a PR nightmare for the Ministry. We cannot let the public trust in it waver too much. The masses will begin losing respect for our laws should this be prolonged."

"I do hope young Harry is okay," Carina said concernedly. "I had hoped he and our Calypso could be playmates once he'd returned to our world. His parents were a good example to the community. I know how fond you were of Lily, dear."

Bartemius sighed. "She was promising and had an uncompromising fire in her. She'd have been an asset in smoothing things over after the War had ended. I'd have recommended her for damn near any position she desired. James on the other hand…"

"Was just as promising," Carina finished for him. She smirked at her husband's irritated expression. "You quarreled with him simply because he was determined to take the mickey out of you for being so uptight. Besides, those pranks were harmless."

"A man just can't forgive having breasts Transfigured onto his chest," he argued. "He and Black are lucky all they got were a pair of Stunners…"

A knock on his office door at 5pm sharp signalled the arrival of Malfoy. The blonde man stepped in as Crouch opened the door, wearing a black suit rather like his own. Bartemius was always thankful robes were typically relegated to formal occasions like the court; they were much too open for his liking.

"Ah Lucius, to what do my wife and I owe for your request of a meeting?" Crouch asked.

Lucius looked Crouch right in the eyes and said, "I have a proposition for the both of you, one which, upon reflection, I believe you will see is beneficial to both parties."

Bartemius scowled at Lucius's words. "If you think you can buy me off Malfoy you've got another thing coming," he said heatedly.

Lucius quickly shook his head and calmly said, "Nothing of the sort, Bartemius. I'm offering you the chance to fulfill the old dream. You still desire to become Minister of Magic, yes?"

Bartemius fumbled his prepared response, not having expected what Lucius said. ' _H-how? How could Malfoy think he could control such a thing? Unless…'_

"What do you know?" asked Bartemius shrewdly. "You wouldn't ask such a thing unless you had information of some sort. Maybe blackmail on Fudge or…"

"Or a means of vastly increasing your popularity in a way that will be proportionally damaging to Fudge's already waning support," finished Lucius. "But, this will require Carina to agree to join several others in a certain undertaking that will benefit all of us."

Bartemius waited a few moments, considering the possibility of finally becoming the Minister, before berating himself for nearly agreeing without even knowing the terms of the deal. "You're being awfully vague about this. Before Carina and I could possibly agree, you have to show your cards," he said firmly.

Lucius nodded in agreement. "My wife's family and I have Harry Potter safe and sound," he said, stunning the pair of Crouches, producing a photograph of Harry his sister-in-law Lyra had taken the day previous. "And after Narcissa and Andromeda were allowed to sift through his somewhat jumbled memories of the event with Legilimency, we finally determined who the Death Eater was that attacked him."

Bartemius was practically salivating at what he was being offered, though he was smart enough to mask it. Before he could ask what the terms were, his wife spoke up.

"And you wish for me to be the final member of a Black Family coven for Barty to become the Minister, correct?" Carina said, smiling at the two men.

Lucius did a double-take. "How did you…?"

She waved him off. "Women talk, Lucius. Augusta owled me this morning, telling me to expect your visit but not to mention it until I knew the reason. She didn't outright tell me, but when she mentioned I'd be the thirteenth witch you'd visited, well, I _can_ read between the lines."

Lucius tried to regain his momentum, as Bartemius looked more hesitant now that he knew what Lucius required for what he offered. As the man knew about the benefits of a coven due to his departmental interactions Flamel and her Cult of Aphrodite over in France, Lucius knew he'd need to make certain assurances to sway Bartemius.

"I know the ritual to form a Covenant is considered dark magic, but you of all people know that we can't be soft-handed when the opposition intends to annihilate or enslave us. These pushbacks on the Continent and in the States, they're darker portends than you know," Lucius started.

"It's him, isn't it?" Bartemius interrupted. "Albus and I have been discussing it for some time. Fudge refuses to listen, but the parallels are eerie. It's just… how can it be Voldemort? Our task force was certain that whatever form he survived in, he was somewhere in or near Albania. These policy shifts and reprisals have been occurring all over the place. Those Muggle-born Ministry officials were maimed in Spain for instance…"

"I don't know the how, but I am certain of the who," Lucius said gravely. "They've scarcely tried anything in France because of Flamel's authority there. At the very least, we can deter he and his followers from attacking brazenly here as well. With a proper family coven and you as Minister, we'll be in a prime position to set up a coalition and make allies to strike back as needed."

Bartemius mulled over how such scenario was likely to go. Albus's plan had merit. He believed the ICW should put economic pressure on the magical governments who were passing dangerous policies and setting up legal precedents that would, for instance, allow Muggle-baiting to be justified if the offending wizard 'felt threatened by the Muggle'. However, it stalled since dozens of nations, especially smaller ones, had objected to allowing the ICW do exercise such a power, fearing it might one day be directed at them. Wizarding communities were interconnected by sheer necessity. None wished to allow such pressures be put on them.

"How can you guarantee Barty will be able to become the Minister, even if you convince the Wizengamot to oust Fudge?" Carina asked pointedly. "After that vote back in October, surely there are whispers that you're not the 'proper pure-blood' the old families think you should be?"

Lucius chuckled and said, "I've already got that covered. Let's just say that Greengrass and I have been rather diligently collecting _favors_ among the other court members. Others were more than happy to vote our way; Augusta all but told me to get on with it when we last spoke."

"Do it," Bartemius said confidently. "Make the arrangements for me to apprehend the Death Eater in question. Make a Vow with me that this plan isn't a trap of some sort and I'll agree to your terms." He looked back at his wife, realizing he'd nearly overstepped his bounds without consulting her. "Are you willing, dear?"

"Hah, the coven prospect never bothered me. I've feared many have been less than faithful to the gods, so at the very least we remind the public of their religious duties. Augusta and I can get passed old squabbles," Carina said.

Afterwards, Lucius and Bartemius made the requested Unbreakable Vow with Carina overseeing it.

"Here's how it will go…" Lucius started.

* * *

 **(November 26th, Two Days Later, Crouch Residence, London)**

The Disillusioned, robed man was skulking through the townhouse of the senior Ministry official in the dead of night. He had not expected to be the one finally end Potter. No, after his little tip-off to the Prophet, he expected others who had gone into hiding after the disappearance of their master to be chomping at the bit to end the boy.

As luck would have it, a traitor who wanted a good word put in had gotten the information to him that Potter had been hidden in Crouch's London residence until they were sure he was safe.

' _As if those bureaucratic nitwits had the ability to protect him from me,'_ the man thought confidently.

The wards protecting the home had certainly been impressive, a notch or two above what he'd been told were protecting the Malfoy's manor. The man assumed the attacks had convinced Malfoy he had no future unless he could get back in their master's good graces.

There had been a weakness in the enchantments, however. They were designed to repel those with ill-intent towards those inside. After using some some charms he'd picked up from a old curse-breaker acquaintance of his, he'd determined they were only effective against humanoids. As it turned out, he was an Animagus. Unregistered, naturally.

Once inside, his _Homenum Revelio_ showed that of the four people in the home. One was off alone in another room, no doubt his target. He magically erased the sound of his footfall as he approached the room. He silently entered and saw the small figure asleep on the bed. Inspecting him, he determined that it was Potter, scar and all.

"Oh Lucius, you might even get off easy for giving me this," he whispered gleefully.

But just as he raised his wand to do the deed, there was a loud cracking sound behind him. He twirled to meet his attacker only to be thrown across the room by a Banishing Charm that came from behind him.

"Really Carrow, did you think you could enter my home unbeknownst to me?" the man asked in a bored tone of voice.

Amycus scrambled to his feet, wand pointed at the mustachioed man at the doorway. "Shouldn't be so arrogant, Crouch. If your wards had been worth a damn I wouldn't have gotten in," he said fiercely.

"Ah, you still don't get it. You were let in. It's a trap, you see. Now that I've got you all to myself I'll be taking you in." His tone suggested how certain he was he'd succeed.

"It'll take more than you've got old man. _Crucio!_ " Amycus shouted.

But impossibly, Crouch did not so much as whimper when Amycus's spell hit him. He stood there, firm posture and all, as if he'd been on the receiving end of nothing more than a light breeze.

"Impossible!" Amycus shouted. He started throwing a flurry of spells at Crouch. A Bone-Shattering Curse, an Abdomen Bursting Curse, even Dolohov's personal curse for good measure. They each failed to have any apparent effect on the man.

Amycus began backing up, not understanding how the man could be completely unaffected by his magic.

"I don't know how you're doing this but it ends now!" he screamed. " _Avada K-_ "

Suddenly, he was struck by a Body-Binding Spell from behind and collapsed on the floor like a statue, unable to cast a spell as he lay helplessly on his back.

"The problem with your sort Carrow is that you mistake brutality for real power," came Crouch's voice from the bed.

Who he had taken to be Potter on the bed faded into the appearance of Crouch, who stood up and looked down upon Amycus as if he were the filth of the earth. He'd clearly been had all along. The Crouch he'd been attacking must have been an illusion of some sort.

"A little trick I picked up from my Japanese counterpart. Misdirection is an indispensable weapon, you failed to notice the timed Banishing Charm I had set up near the bed. That illusion of me was just a distraction. Viciousness does not make you invincible, something your master should have done a better job instilling in you, Carrow."

A red light flared out of Crouch's wand and Amycus's world went black.

* * *

 **(Ministry of Magic Atrium, Afternoon of the same day)**

Harry didn't understand why they had to be in this place. The had walked through a magic mirror in an empty office building in London and appeared in a massive room that seemed to be underground. There was a huge golden statue of a witch and wizard, with a goblin and elf looking at them in awe. Having just been allowed to continue training with Burmog and the gang the other day - with too much supervision by his new family, of course - he knew no goblin would be caught dead looking at a wizard that way.

Most irritatingly of all, there were a huge number of people, many holding cameras of various brands taking pictures of the the officials situated on the podium near the statue. He recognized a few of the figures, as they were part of his father's family. His aunt Amelia, a nice blonde lady with a cool niece, was whispering with his uncle Crouch, or has Harry preferred, uncle Grouch. He had met the man early that morning, along with his wife and their daughter, Calypso. Calypso seemed nice but was too hesitant to let loose and have fun. Harry blamed uptight uncle Grouch.

Behind the podium stood his aunt Narcy and uncle Lucius, as well as his aunt Lyra and uncle Gil, who was having to fend off a number of reporters who he clearly would have rather been boasting to regarding his adventures.

"Come now, Harry," said his aunt Minnie.

Harry grabbed her hand as they made their way to the podium, with Andy and Ted following behind them briskly. Aunt Minnie had told Harry to keep his head down until the right time, otherwise it things would get out of hand.

After he and his family stood beside the Malfoys, Amelia nodded to Bartemius that they were ready.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press," Bartemius said. "The Ministry thanks you for your patience."

"What's the news? Did you manage to find Harry Potter?" shouted someone among the crowd.

Bartemius said, "The Ministry has received the countless demands that action be taken, we have heard your plea. Indeed, Mr. Potter has been rescued and is in safe hands." Bartemius gestured at McGonagall, who despite not wanting to put Harry through this media circus, knew it was the only way to calm fears.

Harry walked forward and was brought forward and stood next to Gr-Crouch, who put a hand on Harry's shoulder. When they registered who he was, the large gathering erupted into applause and innumerable shutter clicks and camera flashes, forcing Harry to close his eyes.

Harry felt Amelia's hands on his guiding him off the podium. His aunt Minnie quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him close. He was grateful. Some of the reporters didn't seem keen on following him after she gave the The Look.

"See Harry? Nice and easy, wasn't it?" aunt Lyra asked him.

Harry nodded slowly. "I don't much like being famous though…"

McGonagall hugged him a bit, hoping he wasn't upset by being used that way, even if she didn't see much choice in the matter.

Lyra looked at McGonagall seriously and asked, "Were you able to convince Sprout to help set up the ritual space without Dumbledore finding out? Without her, setting up the grove is going to be difficult; I don't have a green thumb."

McGonagall nodded. "Pomona has agreed to assist us, provided she is allowed to be among the first batch of initiates taken in by the coven come the next equinox. She's even offered to acquire the fairies we require for the ritual."

Gilderoy seemed nervous about the ritual in question, as he asked, "Do the gents need to participate as well? You know me dear, ra-ra Morgana and all that. But, this blood binding ritual is a bit… creepy."

Lyra giggled at her husband's discomfort. "Oh Gil, starting the coven is women's business, don't worry your beautiful little head," she said playfully, pinching his cheek. "You should be present though, as a show of respect to our soon-to-be matron. Have to set a good example to the little ones."

Harry tugged in the sleeve of his aunt Minnie's blouse and asked, "What's a ritual?"

Once Amelia had rejoined him at the podium, Bartemius continued, "As you can see, the Ministry was quick to act. Young Mr. Potter was safely in my care hours after his abduction. And as Madame Bones can attest, I've apprehended the vile culprit responsible."

Amelia stepped forward to speak into the microphone. "At half-past midnight this morning, Mr. Crouch's residence was attacked by the very man we know to be responsible for the assault in Harry Potter, who again sought to harm him. What the assailant did not know was that it was a setup, the only people present were a team of Aurors and Mr. Crouch. He was quickly subdued by Mr. Crouch and is currently in DMLE custody awaiting his trial later this week."

There was a brief applause for Bartemius, who's hand shot up from the crowd. "Daniel Egerton, _Galena Gazette_. Who was the man responsible?"

Amelia eyed Crouch, who nodded. "The man apprehended by Mr. Crouch was a known Death Eater, Amycus Carrow."

The crowd became uproarious once again, until Bartemius Silenced them all to calm them. Once they had, a well-dressed blonde caught the attention of the two addressing the crowd.

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet… though you all knew that." She winked at Amelia, who held back a grimace. "Why did the Ministry take so long to find Harry Potter? According to the Muggles he went missing at the beginning of June. Surely tracking down one boy isn't beyond the Ministry's capacity?" she remarked acidly.

Bartemius and Amelia felt a dilemma. On one hand, not telling would greatly decrease the esteem the public held for the Ministry. But they couldn't exactly tell the truth, not entirely, without making Harry's life more difficult than it was already going to be.

Bartemius took charge and said, "There were extenuating circumstances. Harry Potter is, as well all know, an extraordinary wizard. The reason he could evade us so thoroughly is unprecedented. He mastered the ability to Apparate before he was eight-years old."

As the crowd started reacting to this and other statements, Harry began tuning them out out of sheer boredom. After what seemed like an eternity, his uncle Crouch seemed to be wrapping up.

Another reporter raised their hand. "Xenophilius Lovegood, _The Quibbler_." At this, everyone groaned. Lovegood seemed oblivious to this, as he continued, "Rumor has it that despite the upcoming relaxation of the Wand Ban as it applies to goblins, Minister Fudge has an ongoing policy of executing goblins in shockingly creative ways, not the least of which includes baking them in pies. Is the Ministry willing to confirm or deny these allegations?"

Amelia struggled not to laugh, just managing to say, "The DMLE… has no comment… regarding any rumors of the Minister baking goblins into pies."

As his other aunts and uncles walked Harry back towards the exit, Harry spotted an angry looking man in a green bowler hat stomping towards the podium…

* * *

 **(4 Weeks Later, December 21st, 1988, Isle of Black - Exact Location Unplottable)**

The more Harry got to know his new family, the more he expected the other shoe to drop. His life thus far made him feel justified in his cynicism.

Not that the Black family made him feel anything like unwelcome. To the contrary, they seemed quite interested in him and took him in without incident. His aunt Andromeda (Andy, as she preferred) was perhaps the nicest person he'd ever met. Her pleasant expressions and kind gestures gave him no indication that she was anything but caring toward him. The way she fussed over his eating habits and clothing were the exact opposite of his aunt Petunia, who saw anything he did in a negative lens.

Aunt Minnie reminded him of his old primary school teacher a bit due to her strictness, but she took the bulk of the work taking care of Harry. She was a teacher at a magic school (which Harry pestered her about endlessly) and even made her manse his primary home after the adoption meeting at the Ministry. Even his aunt Narcy was nice, if a bit slow to join the fun at times. But she was also rather fearless, such as when chased off a ghoul that had somehow ended up in his great Aunt Longbottom's manor.

Aunt Lyra was probably his favorite of the adults. Even though she would laugh at the strangest of things, and uncle Gil was always talking about some heroic deed he'd done, Lyra had a way of making him feel welcome. She'd play silly games with him and his friends (most of which revolved around scaring uncle Gil), perform neat magic spells and she even took him on a trip to the zoo once (Harry was sad, though not surprised, to find the boa constrictor back in its container).

No, it was his uncle Lucius and that old man Dumbledore who puzzled him most. Neither were overtly or truly mean to Harry, but there was always something about the way they looked at and spoke to Harry that made him feel put under a microscope. Dumbledore would slip in comments and questions - not all directed at Harry - when he stopped by aunt Minnie's house, and Harry would just barely notice the quick, piercing gaze he would send Harry's way. What he was looking for Harry didn't know; he couldn't understand what he was supposed to know about Dark Magic or "Fracturing Muggle-Wizard relations"... he didn't even know what that last thing meant.

Lucius seemed interested in Harry's Muggle friends. He voiced his questions in a concerned tone of voice about how they were adjusting to being around so many magical beings, but it didn't seem to match the disinterested look in his eyes when he would see Gwen and Mitchell return from their jobs over the couple of weeks after Harry moved in with Minnie.

Luckily, Harry's younger relatives among the Black family were as fun as they were varied. Just a few days prior, Harry had been introduced to a distant cousin, Neville Longbottom, after something uncle Lucius called "a successful recruitment" with Neville's grandmother Augusta. Neville was a somewhat dumpy boy with eyebrow-length brown hair and whose shyness made his speech inaudible at times. But he seemed to be breaking out of his shell a bit as he played with Harry more. Neville thought he might be a Squib, but Harry was certain he'd seen Neville magick a tree root over his foot the day before, causing him to trip.

Then there was another distant cousin, Draco Malfoy. He was strikingly similar in mannerisms and looks to his father, but he actually had a real sense of humor that Lucius either lacked or suppressed. He didn't seem interested in Neville initially, but a few games of hide and seek can make fast friends. His overly formal means of introduction were good for a laugh though. Harry would forevermore insist his real name was "Cousin Harry" When Draco was present; Draco suggested "Potty" was the better name.

But Harry's favorite new family member by far was Tonks. She was even more fun-loving than Cameron had been, very cute and thanks to her Muggle-born father she could relate to the Muggle references Harry would occasionally make that others didn't understand. Her tendency to cause accidental mischief due to persistent clumsiness was a comedy staple. Never again would uncle Gilderoy leave a flask of Shrinking Solution on the table lest Tonks happen to be in the vicinity. Whenever she and Neville were in the same room, the wise among the occupants would slip into an adjacent room out of self-preservation.

However, it was the fact she shared the rare Metamorphmagus power that entranced Harry the most. Using their shapeshifting had become a common game for them, one he and Tonks were playing currently since Tonks was on her holiday break from Hogwarts. Neville or Draco would briefly show Harry and Tonks a photo of a random person they found somewhere. After 3 seconds the picture would be removed and Harry and Tonks would try to metamorph their face to mimic the photograph they'd seen within 5 seconds. Harry didn't win very often, but it was so much fun he didn't really care.

At present, they were in a small cottage on an Unplottable island somewhere north of the Isle of Man. In the living room, Neville brought a Chocolate Frog card to Harry and Tonks as his selection for the final, winner-take-all round. As Harry studied to occupant of the card - a female figure he'd become quite familiar with lately, one Morgana - he prepared to mimic her features.

"3, 2, 1; Go!" Neville said while failing to suppress a giggle.

"You're going down, Harry!" Tonks said confidently.

"In your dreams, _Nymphadora_ ," Harry replied.

Harry and Tonks quickly began changing their faces to match the card. Their hair transitioned into the wavy black hair depicted, and began lengthening until it reached their lower backs. Their magic quickly began to change the structure of their faces for match the more rounded jaw structure of Morgana's. This was where Harry had the advantage. Tonks just wasn't as used to changing her facial structure as Harry was due to the multiple identities he used when on the streets.

However, once they began altering their torso and lower body, Harry predictably slowed down. Ever since Tonks's warning, he had been wary of using his metamorphing to even copy pictures of women, despite her telling him that copying a picture was perfectly safe.

Tonks finished two whole seconds before Harry did and upon the five second time limit passing, she had done a more accurate mimic than he had.

Neville looked at Harry with a barely disguised smile. "Sorry Harry, looks like Tonks won again."

Harry shrugged having expected it. After asking Tonks about what she was doing at school before the break, they were joined by a few others who came in through the back door. Susan Bones and Draco walked in chattering about what they'd been doing at primary school the day prior (Harry would get to join them come January). Calypso and Daphne conversed with each other in quieter tones, though Harry caught the words "Witch Weekly" and tuned them out. It was a paper that managed to bore Harry even more than the incomprehensible Daily Prophet. If that's what adults read Harry was set on not becoming one. Surely he could just shapeshift back into a kid?

"Staring off into space again, Potty?" Draco asked. "I know I'm good-looking but a relationship between us is out of the question."

Harry scowled at Draco, whose smug grin never failed to annoy him. Well, when it was directed at him.

"Yea right, Draco. We all know you've got a crush on Daphne. Even Neville says so," Harry argued back. Neville nodded slightly in agreement. Ever loyal, that one.

Draco ignored the now-common jab and looked at Harry's dirty clothes (he'd spent the morning with Lyra combing woods in the area for snakes to talk to). "And here I thought aunt Minerva was educating you properly. If I didn't know any better I'd think Neville were your teacher. He lacks any subtlety, you lack any pride. One might assume you were both Muggles."

Harry was close to hosing Draco down with a Water-making Charm but Tonks, who always watched his and Draco's interactions for entertainment, broke them up by standing between them.

"Sorry boys, no time for this. It's just about-" she looked over at the clock on the wall. "Yes, it's time we get a move on. Everyone will be arriving soon for ritual and we've got to get everyone situated beforehand. Get dressed in the ceremonial robes and be down in five." Despite much groaning, the three boys went off to the guest rooms of the small house to change into the elaborately decorated robes, vest and mask they had to wear for the ritual that was to take place within the hour.

Calypso giggled and said, "Why didn't they just get dressed earlier? We've had hours."

"Boys," Susan answered simply, leading to much giggling by the rest of the girls.

* * *

 **(30 Minutes Later)**

Narcissa was experiencing a curious but expected mixture of unease and excitement. They were not long from calling Morgana's spirit back to the mortal plane to make a Covenant with her. It was the only sort of quasi-Necromancy that actually worked.

In her hands, Narcissa held an ancient tome which, despite being well over a millennium in age, looked pristine and whose magic hummed with powerful intensity and an almost seductive pull that was irritating to resist.

 _The Grimoire Most Black_.

She'd wanted to open it not long after Kreacher Apparated her into Number 12 a few weeks earlier. However, she knew she and her family needed to give it up without attempting to copy or otherwise salvage the untold knowledge and repository of their family's resource caches documented within the uncountable pages within it. To do so would diminish its immense value and thus nix its use for the ritual. It might even cause their would-be family goddess to kill them in retaliation, something they were itching to avoid.

The thirteen of them, Black witches scattered about the British Isles by their various walks in life and family situations, had gathered together in their ancestral land, somewhere north of the Isle of Man. It had long since been hidden from Muggles and magical beings alike by the very witch they intended to deify.

Wizards, especially British wizards, assumed Avalon existed. Only the House of Black knew where it was. Emphasis on _was._ If the kingdom of the fairies still existed, it had been so thoroughly hidden that even the best spellcasters of the age had failed to catch so much as a whiff, much less a whisper, of its present location. But there was no mistaking the powerful magic that encroached upon her upon setting footsteps in the island, an ever-present surge that made all too clear what had once been.

The thirteen of them were seated in a large circle around a circular altar carved out of the blackest obsidian. At its center was a large pit that would house their sacrificial fire to which their offerings would be given.

Around them was the exquisite grove Pomona Sprout had spent the last month painstakingly preparing to most appropriately appeal to Morgana. The grass was a brilliant green, something all in who would be be in attendance would match with their green robes and dresses. On the outskirts of the grove were numerous Silverleaf trees alight with the multicolored glow of many dozens of fairies. Sprout had again come to the rescue. She had a contact in in WHIFF - the Witches Holistic Institute for Friends of Fairies - who she and McGonagall briefed on the situation. It had taken some doing since communicating with fairies was difficult enough on a small scale, but once they had the gist of what the ritual entailed, they were all to happy to participate.

Half a dozen meters away from the circle of witches were rows of conjured seats that the rest of the family and the few invited guests would be seated. Though none would be members of the inner circle just yet, taking part in the ritual, even in a minor role, would set a good impression.

"Do you think she's gone dumb and deaf?" Cassiopeia Black asked loudly. "I always hoped Cygnus wouldn't pass on the Black Madness but alas…"

"Hush Cassie," chided Callidora Longbottom. "She's just entranced by the ritual space. Pomona did a smashing job, after all."

Her daughter Augusta complained, "Yes, well, I do hope we get started soon. I'm going to catch a cold out here. Sitting outside in the dead of winter with these bloody thin clothes on… If this blasted ritual hadn't required wands to be absent I could at least apply a nice Warming Charm."

Amelia Bones shook her head. "Come on ladies, we don't have time complain. We're lucky the island is enchanted to keep out the snow. Calm your minds so that we may complete the coming task without error."

In any other situation a number of those present would have made a snide remark in response. But Amelia's position as the soon-to-be coven's High Witch made her the go-to person go settle arguments and to represent their number publicly. They had debated for several hours on who was to hold the position. Minerva had been a popular choice, even from Amelia. But Minerva had astutely pointed out that in terms of political accomplishments and magical prowess, Amelia was several notches above her. She was, after all, the only spellcaster other than Dumbledore to duel Voldemort to a standstill. And as the head of the DMLE, she was accustomed to dealing with many conflicting personalities and viewpoints in high-stress situations.

Minerva suddenly cast a wandless Shield Charm around them, which was soon met with a powerful Blasting Curse, just barely managing to remain intact. Because the Isle of Black was inaccessible to anyone not related to a their line within at least seven generations, the pool of people who could have attacked them was very limited. Then there was the question of how they even knew they were on the Isle.

"Oh a clever half-breed," came a voice many recognized. Andromeda and Narcissa in particular looked stunned.

The man walking into the ritual space from the fairy dotted trees was Cygnus Black, the father of Narcissa and Andromeda. As Cassie had alluded to, his state of mind (not to mention body) was obviously erratic and not at peak.

"Here I was thinking someone else managed to find Avalon when my Extrasensory Perception Charm went off. But what do I find?" he asked mockingly, looking at each witch in turn. "Half-bloods, low-class witches and the shame of my flesh fraternizing with witches who should know better. Just what do you think you're doing defacing this place?"

"Attacking first and asking questions later? I see Dad was right about you, Uncle," Lyra said with a glare directed at the man.

"As if I care about what the spawn of that blood traitor Phineas thinks," Cygnus replied snidely. "But I am disappointed to see you here, daughter." He stared at Narcissa as if she ought to be devastated for failing him.

Narcissa looked at him impassively. Though she was saddened it had come to this, she had come to grips with the fact her father was beyond redemption at this point. Even though he hadn't directly supported Voldemort, he never asserted desire for anything less than the same world Voldemort sought to create. Attacking the coven without provocation was well passed the line.

"Do you really think you can overcome all thirteen of us?" Narcissa asked in an icy tone. "You were always a bit of a chauvinist, but I know you haven't gone that mad."

Cygnus snorted. "Who says I'm alone? You've seen the papers, you know he escaped Azkaban. Who do you think has been keeping Sirius off the radar of the Ministry? Fierce, powerful and wears the pride of the House of Black that one. He should more than even the odds."

Narcissa was taken aback by that. She and Andromeda had hoped beyond hope that Sirius had indeed been threatened by Voldemort into giving up the Potters. But if he was working with Cygnus…

"Where's Sirius then?" Andromeda asked challengingly. "Sirius isn't a coward like you. He wouldn't attack from the shadows."

"He's waiting on my signal, I just-," he began, before he spotted the book he recognized well, sitting in his daughter's arms.

"How did you get that?" he asked fiercely. "What are you trying to… No, you're not?" Cygnus inspected the area more closely. A ritual bonfire, an altar inscribed with an ancient Rune Scheme, the setting in a grove. It was so obvious.

"A coven? Are you lot out of your mind?! You would destroy our family and for what? I think it's time to put you in your place." Cygnus raised his wand, his intent to kill unmistakable.

A strong Stunning Spell shot out the treeline behind Cygnus, who managed to parry the spell away from him despite coming from his blindspot. A thin man walked out of it and toward them. Despite his clear degradation after six years under constant Dementor influence, Sirius Black still exuded the righteous anger many recalled fondly in the first Wizard War.

"Sorry Amelia. I saw you were about the do the deed but he was droning on and on like an Augurey in spring," Sirius said nonchalantly. "I did like you defending my honor Andy. Probably didn't quite live up to it by attacking him from behind though."

Andromeda, who was near to years at seeing him again, said, "Oh don't be daft Sirius. Like that matters now."

"Tsk, a traitor to the end," Cygnus shouted angrily. "Am I the only true Black left?"

Sirius shrugged, keeping his wand trained on his uncle. "You really thought I was Voldemort's stooge? I'm not Bella, Uncle. I have honor enough to know cold-blooded murder for fun and domination is fucking absurd. You've lost."

Now that he couldn't count on assistance, Cygnus was beginning to sweat. One could not Apparate to nor Disapparate from the Isle of Black. He'd have to fight his way to the water, a task all the more challenging since Sirius had a wand, even if the witches didn't.

Not that it mattered, as in the next instant he found himself pulled underground by the roots of a tree, leaving only his head above the surface. His wand had been knocked out of his grasp in the process.

Amelia shook her head. "He really does talk too much." She looked at Sirius, and felt her heart skip a beat. She'd been utterly devastated when he'd apparently betrayed them all, she hadn't even batted an eye when he, like many others, weren't given a trial. It had broken her heart given their progressing relationship those six years ago. Azkaban had worn him down considerably as well.

"I'm supposed to arrest you on sight, Sirius," Amelia said slowly, not removing her eyes from his. "But if you aren't lying… we can at least hear you out. But right now we've got work to do and it has to be done tonight."

Sirius nodded and watched as Cygnus was bound and levitated away. "We'll talk about it afterwards. Now, as the named heir to the House of Black, what's this about a coven?"

* * *

 **(30 More Minutes Later)**

Religion had been an odd thing for Harry. He remembered many times all those months ago when he'd disguise himself and go to the church services at St. Matthews. Try as he might, he could never understand a thing. He never felt the "spirit of the Lord" or whatever the old man heading the service called it.

When he first saw people praying, he thought they were talking to themselves. That's just what it looked like. But it quickly became clear these people believed this praying would do something. Harry, disguised as an adult, had asked the minister if they were performing magic. The man had been highly offended by the remark, but Harry certainly couldn't understand why.

He then figured one had to actually pray to God himself to really get it. And so he did. Over and over again. Nothing he asked for happened. He never got food when he was hungry. His parents never came back to life even though he _really_ needed them. The prayers couldn't even give him a nice bed to sleep on instead of the floor, so he ended up having to steal one using Apparition.

And so Harry quickly concluded that religion was a load of nonsense and God was bunk.

"Draco, this ritual thing. Is it a bit like church?" Harry asked as the kids and the adults all their way to the seats a few minutes before the ritual was to start.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You mean that Muggle religious place? No way, we worship real gods, make offerings to them, request for certain intercessions, that sort of thing. I don't understand the ritual exactly, but my father says we're making a new goddess."

"Wow," Harry said. "We can do that?"

Draco shrugged. "It's what he told me."

Although the vest and green robes were a bit much for Harry, he was glad they kept him slightly warm. Even with all the people there and the lack of snow thanks to magic, December was December. Everyone present was wearing a Triskelion pendant around their neck. The three swirling lines were composed of snakes, which Harry rather liked, even if he wasn't one for jewelry.

Everyone began getting seated. Harry sat beside Draco and his father on one side and Ted and Nymphadora Tonks on the other; they had been allotted the front row. He spotted the Greengrasses the row behind them. Susan and Neville were sitting over next to Calypso and her father, who bore strikingly similarly composed expressions. Gwen and Mitchell had even been allowed to come, despite the objections his uncle Lucius had made; they were still seated in the back row, which Harry felt was intentional on his uncle's part. There were maybe a dozen others that Harry didn't recognize, so he turned back around as the ritual began.

Susan's aunt Amelia began things with a shout. A huge orange fire erupted in the pit at the center of the black altar. The witches, all dressed in identical green dress robes, began encircling the fire while chanting words the like of which Harry had never heard. After three revolutions around the fire they stopped at the original positions.

Amelia shouted again while the others continued chanting, "We call upon Hecate, the goddess of magic and witchcraft. As with magic itself, you defy complete understanding and conceptualization. We each offer a piece of our magic that you would make it one and true!

"Let it be so!" the remaining twelve cried in reply, as did the adults sitting around Harry. The thirteen witches's hands were outstretched towards the pit of fire. A magic Harry didn't recognized left their hands and entered the flames. The bonfire sparked brightly as if in answer to their request, its color fading from orange into a light blue.

Harry didn't understand what they were doing, but he could feel the change. The air was as if charged by lightning, a powerful force seemed to be oppressing him from all sides.

The thirteen continued to encircle the fire thrice more, chanting in the strange language one more. This time, his aunt Andromeda stepped forward, carrying a huge bowl filled with what looked to be a lot of meat.

"We call upon Hestia, goddess of the hearth and the family!" Andromeda called out. "We make this offering in the hope that you will safeguard our families and our homes. Without you, the ties which bind us together as family loses all cohesion."

"Let it be so!" everyone else shouted in response as Andromeda cast the meat into the fire, which roared aloud upon consuming the offering. The children even got in on it, catching on after the first time. It made Harry feel a bit giddy to join in, though he managed to avoid giggling. It would feel rather inappropriate.

The flames transitioned from blue to a pink much like the color of Tonks's hair (Harry wondered if it was intentional), just as the atmosphere changed. Harry felt a pleasant warmth begin spreading throughout his body. As if he'd had a meal and had sat in from of a roaring fire at the end of a long day. It reminded him of the best times he'd spent with Gwen, Mitchell and Cameron.

' _Is this what Draco was talking about?'_ Harry wondered in curiosity. It was a very peculiar feeling to have something unseen affect him so. He wondered if this what those churchgoing Muggles felt when they prayed.

After once again circling the fire three times, a red-haired older woman he'd met once - Cedrella Weasley - stepped towards the fire. She raised her right hand and conjured a bright white ball of light in the air above them. Since she wasn't talking, Harry didn't know what was going on.

But then, from all around the grove, they were deluged by tumultuous tinkling sound. Small flying things, glittering in the light of the full moon above, swarmed toward to fire from sides, hovering in the air around the fire in a circle of their own.

"They're fairies," his uncle Lucius whispered. Harry and Draco nodded.

Cedrella spoke out in a commanding voice, "We call upon Morgana Pendragon - Morgan le Fey, the Queen of Avalon. Though you walk this mortal coil no more, your people have need of you, if you are so willing!"

Cedrella was handed the _Grimoire Most Black_ by Narcissa beside her, and raised it above her head.

"Our enemies gather, Lady Morgana. We present our family grimoire as a sacrifice. Though it contains magic not yet known and resources untapped, still your power is greater. This we give as tribute to make and empower you as the family goddess of the House of Black!"

Harry watched in fascination as she cast the large book into the flames as the fairies above used their own limited magic to send beams of light into the pink fire at the same time.

For a moment all was still. It was as if the world had gone mute. The wind no longer blew, the sound of the waves had gone dead silent. Even the tinkling of fairy wings had disappeared. Harry wondered if something had gone wrong.

But then, just as suddenly, everything came back and with a vengeance. The ground began to tremor a bit and the flames of the bonfire shot skyward, forcing the fairies to back away a bit to avoid dying. The fire quickly dissipated, leaving the figure of a woman standing in its place.

Harry had never seen the like of this woman. No, more than that, he'd never felt anything like her. She exuded power in a way that was impossible to deny, her presence made him consciously on edge. She was average in height, bearing wavy black hair that reached midway down her back. Her eyes glowed blue, making them easy to pick out from afar. She wore a black fur coat of sorts and, reminding him of Lyra, had a beautiful blue snake on her shoulders. Most strikingly, however, were the large translucent wings sticking out of her back.

"I have returned to Albion? No, to the old Avalon, it would seem." Although she seemed to be speaking at a normal volume, Harry head her as if she were speaking from right next to him.

The woman looked at the thirteen witches around her, who all knelt down in her presence.

"Oh my, I never expected to be summoned for such a thing," she mused. "And why would you request me to be your deity? Surely Merlin and Arthur soured all of Albion to me?"

As High Witch, Amelia stepped forward to answer. "We of the Black family never placed total faith in Merlin and his successors. Our enemies seek to end us, one who even takes up the mantle as the Dark Lord of this age. Only you, Lady Morgana, have all that we need to succeed against this foe where those of Merlin have and will fail."

"Hm, you make a most compelling case; my distaste for Merlin is well sated by your flattery. You are to be my Chosen, your coven's High Witch, yes?", Morgana asked.

"It is so," Amelia answered.

Morgana's snake began talking to her; Harry understood its words and Morgana's response.

' _Is it wise to do this, mistress?'_ the blue snake asked. ' _Unlikely as it may be, Hades does not take kindly to those who even attempt to leave his realm.'_

' _I believe he will make an, ah, religious exception. I would so love to have sport in the realm of the living once more,'_ Morgana answered in Parseltongue.

Harry called out, ' _You should do it! We have lots of fun with magic and stuff.'_

Morgana froze and turned to look at Harry. He covered his mouth, realizing his interruption might have been very bad. Morgana snapped her fingers and Harry found himself standing in front of her. See was looking directly at Harry with an intensity that had Harry on the verge of Apparating away. Then Morgana smiled at him.

"Oh my, you're an interesting one. You can speak the snake tongue and… yes indeed, you walk light and shadow in equal measures. A curious, though I suspect unintentional circumstance," she said conversationally. "Your magic seems unusually adept; it's rarely even controllable at such an age."

"W-what?" asked Harry.

Morgana's snake hissed a warning at her. "I know I know, this has the look of the Fates work all over it. I'm not getting on their bad side."

Harry was more confused than ever. He was going to ask what she was talking about when Morgana clapped her hand once.

"What's your name?" she asked with a grin.

"H-Harry Potter," he said in a small voice.

She ruffled his hair and said, "How would you like my pet snake, Harry?" Said snake hissed (actually hissed, no words) at this offer. "Oh don't mind him, he's usually a good companion. Except in winter. And maybe spring and fall. Never mind, the point is I'm letting you keep him as your familiar."

Harry smiled widely. "Really? Yes please!"

"I think I've found a second Chosen," Morgana said. She waved her hand at Amelia and then at Harry.

His left hand hurt for a moment, and when he looked at it he saw the same Triskelion as his pendant appear on his hand as a tattoo.

Morgana turned back to Amelia. "I agree to your request of a Covenant, High Witch. Complete the bond of blood ritual to seal it."

Amelia nodded, and despite feeling very lost about whatever just happened with their Lady and Harry. She pulled out the ceremonial blade, a small white knife made of platinum. Amelia made a small nick in her hand and said her name aloud, causing blood to flow onto the knife. This cycle was repeated with each witch in the circle until it was handed back to Amelia, stained dark red.

"We present this for the Covenant, Lady Morgana." Amelia presented it to Morgana.

"It is accepted," the ancient witch replied as she took the knife from Amelia. As she grabbed it, Morgana was bathed in a bright white light that seemed to swallow up the entire grove. When it faded, Morgana took a deep breath.

"I have returned," she said with a smile. "Better than ever, it would seem. I always felt like a goddess among other sorcerers; now I really am one."

The thirteen witches broke the circle and knelt down before her. Harry figured he should join them, but Morgana stopped him.

"The kneeling is ever so good for my pride ladies, but it's harder to do what must be done if your eyes are on the ground."

Sheepishly, the Black Witches stood in front of their family goddess, looking at her in awe. If Harry didn't buy into the whole religion thing before, he was pretty convinced at this point.

"My coven… the Coven of Albion. We have much work to do. When I return come the next day, we have much to discuss and plan," Morgana said in a firm tone.

"Yes, milady!" they replied.

"Oh, before I forget. Harry here's my snake. He's house trained of course, but he'll work himself into a snit if he doesn't have a nice plump rat everyday," she said, eyeing her old familiar pointedly.

The snake hissed a word Harry wasn't allowed to say.

"Then I bid farewell to you all until the next day. Oh, and Lyra, love the hair," Morgana said happily.

"I knew you would!" Lyra said with a wide smile. "My husband, the cute one over there, he made this brilliant shampoo using occammy egg and-"

Before she could finish, Morgana vanished in a pillar of fire to an unknown location.

Everyone let out the breath they were holding.

"That was absolutely terrifying," Cassiopeia said as she sat on the grass. "We need to do more rituals, I need that kind of excitement in my life."

Lucretia Prewett shook her head. "I hope future ones aren't so intense. I thought I was going to faint…"

"Morgana was even more formidable than I dared hope," said Verona Selwyn. "You could practically taste the power in the air, and that was before the Covenant."

Andromeda and Amelia walked over to Harry to see that he had indeed been give the mark of the Chosen, just as Amelia had.

"Why did she mark Harry though?" Andromeda asked. "He didn't even bond in blood."

Amelia shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. From the way she said it, she found him interesting, I suppose?"

Lyra joined them. "No, I think she saw what I did. There's something there, but I couldn't understand it. Figures she would keep up the mystery instead of just telling us what it is."

The snake - which Morgana seemed to have forgotten to tell him the name of - began hissing at Harry again.

' _I need a rat, like, now. Do you know how hungry one gets after being dead for a thousand years?'_

Lyra snapped. "Oh Harry, I can't believe I forgot you were Parselmouth. What's he saying?"

Narcissa thumped Lyra in the head, causing the latter to jump backwards and looked at her in annoyance.

"What do you mean you knew he was a Parselmouth? Why didn't you tell us?" Narcissa asked testily.

Lyra rubbed the back of her head nervously as she chuckled. "Oops, did I forget to mention that?"

* * *

 **(A/N):** Whew, that was a lot of words. Tell me what you thought in a **Review** , they keep me motivated to write.

A lot of stuff covered in this chapter, but I felt it was necessary to get a move on with the main premise of the story (though I admit, it makes the chapter feel a bit rushed as I read it). In case I didn't make the clear in previous author's notes, this story is clearly derivative of the story "Reclamation of Black Magic". Unfortunately with RoBM, as became explicitly clear chapter 26 (I believe), the religion aspect of that story is almost entirely superfluous. Morgana isn't really deified by the coven, and they don't seem to really worship her (despite saying Morgana had blessed them). That's something I didn't want to do in this story. The religious aspect, despite mostly being made up on the spot by me (I did lots of things in threes), is intended to be integral to the characters, not an excuse to make every other character fear the coven for unspecified reasons.

Don't take my words too critically of RoBM. I love that story, it's one of my favorites. And in all honesty, I'd say it's better written and develops more interestingly than this story of mine. But the religious aspect of that story, as of June 22, 2018, has disappointed me so far.

Anyway, Hogwarts will start either next chapter or the chapter after that, meaning Hermione returns. Sorry about the abrupt appearance and disappearance last chapter. Since I didn't want to just follow the canon checklist, having Harry and Hermione bond over something besides the Troll incident was a must for me. To make it easier to visualize, Morgana in this story is intended to look like Katie McGrath in her portrayal of the character in the BBC's show "Merlin".

I'm also putting up a poll for this story on my profile as soon as I upload. What Hogwarts House do you want Harry in? Which do you think matches his current characterization in this story? Please go to my profile and **Vote** if you want to influence this. **Favorite and Follow!**


	7. Chapter 7: Dark Ascension

**(A/N):** I can't believe this hit 900 follows & 450 favs in just six chapters! I never thought it'd be half this popular, thanks everyone and keep those **Reviews** and **Favorites** coming! Anyway, for those who didn't see the updated author's note in the last chapter, Morgana in this story is supposed to look like Katie McGrath's portrayal of her in the BBC's "Merlin". Seemed a good fit.

Also, very sorry about the few month hiatus. While I was hospitalized for a chunk of August, really I just got distracted by and interested in other things. I started a short story post-DH about Harry having trouble readjusting to life after nearly entering the afterlife (please check it out, titled "Phantom Pains of Paradise"). Anyway, I'm back on this and my other side projects. Hogwarts starts next chapter, no delays!

* * *

 **(December 21st, 1988, Night of the Ritual)**

"I'm ecstatic about not being chucked into a sacrificial fire and all but if I may be so bold, why would they go to all the trouble of establishing a Covenant with you? I don't see this family suddenly getting the urge to patch things up," Sirius observed.

Shocked as he had been to have a newly minted goddess appear before he and his unconscious uncle Cygnus, his extended stay in Azkaban quickly diminished his reaction just as it had done to everything else about him. He could barely stand to see his own reflection, dominated as it was by his now pale, sallow skin and haunted gaze. He'd saved himself from the total madness the Dementors inflicted, but he couldn't get _him_ off his mind as a result.

Morgana twirled the glass of firewhiskey Sirius had poured for her as she pondered his question. "Your kin seek my power to protect themselves from their enemies. This much is obvious, no?"

"It just seems too grand a method for only that, there must be something more, a bigger play they're making. The Blacks have always had the best defended homes. I don't think I've heard of any of us being successfully attacked within our family homes, we've always let our paranoia convince us to use every defensive enchantment imaginable and then some," Sirius said in a dubious tone of voice. Number 12 was a prime example of that truth. His father Orion, had, if anything, gone off the deep end to ensure no one but himself or his heir could enter the home without issue, much to the chagrin of their family. Sirius doubted Voldemort himself could enter it without considerable effort, assuming he could locate the place. He wasn't keen on testing that theory, however.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to piece together what was going on. Amelia hadn't said much more about what the Black witches were doing besides the obvious - they were calling on divine assistance - before she ushered him to the attic of the cottage to hide until they were finished. Unless things had significantly changed while he was in prison,there were only a dozen confirmed true covens in the world. The only one he really knew anything specific about was the one in France which wielded considerable influence over wizarding France's politics and culture. Wait...

Just as he realized his family's plan, his head began to ache intensely. He found himself short of breath, nearly wheezing. Everything was going black...

 _He was standing in the road of Muggle London, grabbing the shirt of that goddamned man._

' _Sirius, betraying James and Lily... how could you!'_

' _What the hell are you talking about, you rat!' Sirius yelled. 'I'd never, not for anythin-'_

' _Help me, please! He's trying to kill me!' the short man screamed at the top of his lungs._

 _Before Sirius understood what was happening, he found himself on the receiving end of a surprisingly powerful Exploding Curse. He managed to erect a decent Shield Charm around himself to escape the worst of it, but that left the surrounding Muggles completely helpless as they were consumed in the fiery blast that took out the entire street._

 _As the debris cleared, Sirius scoured the spot Peter had been. He waved his wand to move aside as much rubble as he could, desperately hoping Peter had honor enough to end his own life for what he'd done. The street had been blown to bits. Metal from broken cars and infrastructure had been thrown around, even some of the underground piping had become exposed. But much worse were the bits and pieces of people that had been blown off by the reckless spell. At least ten were dead, many more injured. It might have been worth it if…_

 _All he could find was one finger. One lousy finger which had clearly been cut off intentionally. He'd escaped…_

 _All around him he saw the result of what he thought had been cleverness. He'd lost his best friends because of it. Even innocent people had perished because of it. Because of him._

' _What… what have I done…' he said quietly. 'It's all my fault, what the hell did I do?!' Sirius shouted, not having heard the sounds of Apparition behind him._

Suddenly, Sirius shook off the old nightmare and tried to catch his breath, having drawn his wand in his panic. He had to find Peter, he needed to kill him like it was the breath of life. Anything less and he had no doubt he would go mad like many Blacks before him.

"There was a time when men would pay the utmost attention to me, just hoping to curry a little favor, or even just a bit of titillation," Morgana said in amusement. "Much has indeed changed over the centuries if I can't hold your focus for five minutes."

Sirius - barely - managed not to snap at her, as he reassured himself that he was free of the Dementors. "Don't take it personally. I was trapped in my nightmares for so long. I'm… I don't... know how to do this anymore. Normal conversations, I mean. I can't stop thinking about that bastard, and how much time I've missed out on with my godson."

Morgana looked upon him pitiably. She didn't need to use Legilimency to see the man's mind was damaged. Maybe too much for any witch to heal, even if she was a healer without equal. She nearly slapped herself for forgetting the obvious.

She was no garden variety witch - not that she'd ever been that. She was a goddess now, and while that came with its own peculiar limitations she could at least act on this.

Morgana stood from her seat and walked over to Sirius. She placed her hands on both sides of his head, causing him to flinch at the contact.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked nervously.

"Fear not. I am a goddess of healing as much as I am one of dark magic. Some wounds take time to heal, even when magic is at play. Those of the mind are particularly prone to this," Morgana explained. As she invoked her Animentic magic upon his mind, her eyes flashed gold briefly. "But with my newfound status, I can at least stop the intrusions you're experiencing. The rest will be up to you and your delightfully devious family."

The best way Morgana could describe it is she halted the sporadic flow of his memories surrounding certain traumatic and awful events, preventing them from suddenly invading his conscious mind in a debilitating way. They were still there, they'd always be, given that they had lead to an obsession on Sirius's part. Obliviating the memories might work, but that could have many consequences that would make it worse in the long run, it was just too much time to wipe away from the mind. No, the healing would take a concerted effort of the part of the Blacks. He'd have to confront those memories, accept them on some level, or there was nothing anyone could do about it, divine or not.

As she finished her work, Sirius's eyes glazed over. He took a deep breath and the ever-present tension in his shoulders left as he fell into a deep sleep. Sirius seemed more peaceful, if only a little.

Morgana put her hands on her hips and grinned. "Am I good or what?"

All that greeted her was the snore of the other unconscious Black family member who had been left on the ground of the porch before her summoning. Cygnus, Sirius had called him.

"They could have at least sacrificed this one to me," she complained. "I've always wondered what that does for the gods. Maybe they just have a strange sense of humor." Shrugging, she decided New Avalon couldn't be put off anymore. Though she was only part-fairy (the only one, as a matter of fact), her kind had made her their queen in her mortal life. That title had passed onto the daughter she bore for Merlin, but she didn't know if she had any descendants who still held the mantle.

It was time to see home.

Hours later, Sirius slowly awoke in the bed of one of the guest rooms of the cottage his family had built on the Isle of Black. For the first time in years he'd awoken from the light of the rising sun after a restful sleep, as opposed to the intermittent naps and fitful nights that had become his norm.

Rubbing his eyes, Sirius groaned and stared at the ceiling. "And on with the day. Christ this is going to be awkward," he said, assuming his family had found him asleep outside the previous night and moved him to a bed.

"Hi Mister Uncle Sirius!" came an unfamiliar, excited voice from beside the bed.

The sight of his godson watching him from a chair propped up beside him caused Sirius to freeze up. He hadn't seen Harry since a week prior to Voldemort's attack on Potters's home. But even so, the boy's near identical appearance to his father was as fascinating as it was a sobering reminder of what had been lost and how much time he had missed. He did inherit Lily's striking green eyes, which objectively were better than the brown eyes James possessed. They were nice to see again.

"Did you fall back asleep?" Harry asked after Sirius didn't respond to him. He was a bit unnerved how the man hadn't stopped staring at him for twenty seconds straight with his scary eyes.

Sirius shook his head to regain focus. "Sorry about that. It's just… I haven't seen you since you were a baby. Rather surprising how big you've gotten. And I'm not your uncle, Harry."

"But you're older than me, you're not my brother and you're a boy in the same family. That's an uncle, isn't it?" he asked in confusion. He was pretty sure he didn't have any brothers.

Sirius chuckled and said, "That's not quite how it works. No, I'm… I'm your godfather."

If Sirius expected Harry would be angry with him he was sorely surprised. Instead, his eyes lit up like Christmas and his hair turned blonde as if to signal his excitement.

"Are you like Lady Morgana? Oh I can't believe we have a family god and goddess!" he said in excitement. Harry pointed at the Triskelion mark on his hand and said, "Are you going to give me one of these too?"

Upon seeing a Mark of the Chosen on his hand, Sirius was bewildered. As Amelia was the High Witch he didn't understand why Harry was given the ability to directly communicate with their family deity. Had something gone wrong? If so, Morgana hadn't bothered to mention it.

"That's - No, Harry I'm not a god." Not outside the sack, anyway. "A godfather is someone who becomes your new parent if your birth parents die." He grimaced at his own words.

Harry's excitement died down. He realized what Sirius was saying, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. He was still upset his aunt Minnie had left him with the Dursleys, but she was trying so hard to make up for it that he would feel ungrateful if he voiced it.

"How come you were gone?" Harry asked quietly.

Sirius's jaw clenched as he explained, "I was trying to catch the man who betrayed your parents to Voldemort. But he… got the better of me, he tricked everyone into thinking I betrayed your parents, so they put me in prison."

"You mean Azkaban? Draco told me that's where the Dementoids are."

Sirius, for perhaps the first time ever, nearly laughed about Dementors, but he knew he needed to be serious for a little longer, uncharacteristic though it was for him.

"Yes, the _Dementors_ are the dark creatures who guard of Azkaban. But I escaped after I saw the news that you got hurt, I couldn't waste away there when I heard about it."

Harry blushed in embarrassment at recalling how that story about him ended up in the Prophet. His aunts - Lyra and Minerva in particular - planned on getting back at them, somehow, for running that piece on him.

"Wait, if Dementors are so bad how did you get away?" he asked, briefly looking confused but fading with a realization. "You used some cool kind of magic, didn't you?"

Sirius smirked and asked, "Have you ever heard of an Animagus before?"

* * *

After likely regaling Harry for over an hour about his (mis)adventures with his father, and after hearing a strange barking from time to time, Lyra and a few of the coven's other witches felt apprehensive as Orion's named heir walked into the living room after directing Harry outside to play with the rest of the children. It wasn't long before Sirius was on the end of a succession of hugs and kisses. Andromeda didn't hold back with hers, leaving Sirius looking winded in Lyra's opinion. It was to be expected however. The two had been each other's favorite cousin.

"How did you sleep, Sirius?" Lyra asked in a worried tone. Azkaban had left him practically emaciated; his previously sleek black hair had prematurely dulled and the bags under his eyes were very noticeable. Cygnus had done a bit to help when he sheltered him after his widely publicized breakout, but it was a striking difference to the vibrant and handsome cousin she recalled in her school days, having gotten to spend much time with Sirius and James when her father took her to visit her aunt Dorea and uncle Charlus.

The corners of his mouth inched up slightly. "Better than in ages. Now does anyone want to tell me what this is all about? Not that I had any aspirations to leading this family, but humor me."

Narcissa and Minerva ended up taking that responsibility after breakfast plates had been made, as they had been involved in the affair longer than the rest. From discovering Harry's departure from Lily's family to Narcissa and Lucius planning where to go moving forward, Sirius was given all the information he asked for. When they had finished, Sirius exhaled at all the information. "So basically everything went to hell in a handbasket, so you all decided to make Britain your personal chess board with a secret Queen in play?" he asked in amusement. "Lily's relatives better watch their backs or I really will be a murderer."

Having referenced the elephant in the room, Lyra brought up the topic everyone else had been thinking over. "Sirius, what happened that night? It's impossible for me to believe you'd give up James and Lily to You-Know-Who but the Hit Wizards said you were confessing and everything."

"It was my fault, but not the way you think," Sirius began. He explained his secret plan to switch Secret-Keepers, leaving Peter to be the one who held the Potters' secret. Even if Voldemort had threatened to hurt Andromeda or Tonks, Sirius wouldn't be able to hand them over, no one would. Provided Peter stayed hidden and loyal to his friends.

By the end of the story, Andromeda wasn't the only one in tears around the table as both Minerva and Narcissa had tears glistening in their eyes.

"I knew it, I knew it," Andromeda whispered. Unable to resist, she walked briskly around the table to give her cousin another rib-cracking hug and a kiss atop his head.

"I think I should be suspicious my wife is kissing another bloke," came a voice from the back door. "Luckily he's far less good-looking than I."

Sirius's eyes lit up. "Ted! You smug arse, I wondered where you'd been," he said loudly. He got up and they engaged in their silly, complicated handshake which ended with Sirius being bent over as if he were Ted's dance partner, feigning being swooned by the man.

"Get a room you two," Lyra teased.

Ted winked and said, "Just showing Andy what she'd be missing. I'm the total package, Sirius is only in the eight-out-of-ten range, poor chap." The woman in question rolled her eyes at their antics.

Having collected herself, Minerva asked, "How are we going to fix this? If Pettigrew is still out there in his Animagus form, he'll be highly difficult to track down. Common garden rats are everywhere."

With the return to serious territory, Sirius said, "We can narrow it down. Peter is an opportunist, that much is clear to me now. He'll want to be somewhere just near enough to the action that he might be of use to Voldemort for information on Dumbledore's movements and allies, but just far enough away to remain undetected."

Minerva regarded him doubtfully. "That's rather vague. Something concrete is needed."

"He'd worm his way into or around the home of someone Dumbledore trusts. He's the main Voldemort has to fear, so Peter would want to place himself where he could gain information on his enemy."

"But the question is where? Albus has many friends all over Britain, much less elsewhere."

"Couldn't you just scry for him?" Ted suggested.

"If it were that easy don't you think the DMLE would've found me?" Sirius replied dryly. "Assuming we even had a proper Diviner on hand, Peter knows to cast Masking Spells to avoid being detected from a distance. Short of being a Seer, to scry you need a personal connection with your target - friends, family, personal value if it's an object - so I'd be the only one who could do it. And lemme say, there's a reason I dropped the subject fourth-year."

Ted sighed. "I always thought I was a dab hand at Divination. Dora never could figure out how I knew what she was up to." At Sirius's confused look Ted elaborated. "She impersonated Andy using her Metamorphmagus powers last year. Tried to convince me she should be allowed to go to a concert with some _boy_ she met."

Amused, Sirius asked him to continue. "Well she was doing pretty well mimicking Andy, telling me what a good idea it was to let Dora go. But I couldn't shake the feeling the lad was bad news; three nose piercings really is the limit, let alone six. So I rigged together a passable psychomanteum to find Dora… He was getting very grabby very quickly when the image came into focus. I'd Apparated there to hex him but she'd already busted his lip. She got that arm from me you know," Ted said proudly, flexing his bicep in demonstration.

Sirius howled with laughter, while Minerva seemed torn between doing the same or chastising them for getting off track. The latter groaned a few moments later however, having realized the best solution to their issue.

"We'll have to ask Sybill for help then. Barmy as she is, she's the only Seer I know who… well, _trusting_ Seers isn't a good idea in general, such terrible gossips. But Sybill will keep things on a need-to-know basis," Minerva said firmly. "She flaunts her Divination so much I wouldn't be surprised if she knows our plan going in."

"That shouldn't be a problem, as once we have Pettigrew...," Narcissa said gleefully. "Oh boy, Fudge will be livid. His testimony was crucial in having Sirius's court case skipped in the first place. Assured the Wizengamot Sirius had explicitly admitted guilt and everyone on the court was out for blood."

The group agreed and began formulating a more concrete plan of what to do once they discovered Pettigrew's hiding place. However, it would be up to Lucius, Amelia and Bartemius to lead the political battle to solidify their growing power. But as nine o'clock came and McGonagall had given Sirius and Ted the greenlight to see Sybill, the backdoor to the small house was pushed open quickly, followed by a familiar head of messy black hair. He had an upset expression on his face as he ran up to McGonagall and hugged her.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Minerva asked worriedly, rubbing his back to calm him down. As he calmed down, Narcissa's son walked in the same way he had.

"Draco said Mitchell and Gwen are dirty, and shouldn't come to Christmas party since they don't have magic."

"Your friends can come to the party Harry, you don't need to worry about that."

Draco withered under the looks his mother and McGonagall were giving him. "That's what Papa was saying," he defended, giving Harry a slight glare for telling on him.

Frowning, Narcissa said, "Oh he did, did he? I think your father will be sleeping on the couch until Christmas. Nargle infestations give grown-ups bad ideas, Draco. You wouldn't want me to catch them too, right?"

Her son nodded as if he understood, though his bewildered expression made it clear he just wanted to avoid more trouble. Narcissa knew she had a lot of work to do to undo the damage she and Lucius had done in raising their son to uphold the prejudices they were brought up in. But she knew she owed Andromeda that much, not to mention her son.

"Aunt Minnie, can I invite someone else to the party too?" Harry asked finally, evidently nervous. When she asked him who, he answered, "I want to invite Hermione. Her letter yesterday said her father had to cancel their holiday trip. I thought maybe she and her parents could come here instead. Said she'd never seen, um, what did she call it? 'Familial cultic practices', whatever those are.."

McGonagall looked questioningly at Lyra, whose home was where the party was being held at. "I don't see why not," she said while patting Harry's ever-wild hair. "Gilderoy usually invites one of his Muggle cousins over for holidays, it's quite alright."

Before agreeing, McGonagall asked Harry, "Did you perform your morning libation and prayer?"

The boy nodded his head quickly. "I asked her which she liked better. She said the honey is her favorite, but it just smelled weird to me. Do goddesses have broken noses?"

Ignoring Lyra's laughters, she continued, "And the prayer?"

"Does it count if I asked her to tell me her snake's name since I gave her honey? He won't let me call him Mister Scales."

McGonagall made a mental note to explain the purpose of prayer to Harry soon. "Never mind Harry. Miss Granger can come to the party."

Harry gleefully thanked his aunts and stuck his tongue out at Draco before running back outside to play. Draco bore a scowl that looked very much like his mother's as he followed Harry out back.

Andromeda laughed softly at the two boys. They reminded her a little of James and Sirius in their earlier school days. "You'll have your hands full with those two, Minerva. Morgana preserve us, let's hope it's not the classic Gryffindor vs. Slytherin."

"Harry's magic doesn't seem very Gryffindor-ish to me," McGonagall said, thinking over how Harry's magic manifested. "I think we might have another case like Nymphadora."

Lyra looked confused, but Andromeda seemed to be in agreement. "So, him being a Metamorphmagus gives him an inherent advantage in Human Transfiguration but his accidental magic usually skews towards another branch entirely?"

Lyra caught on, saying, "You're thinking he'll be a Hufflepuff? I've not seen him accidentally use any nature or earth-based spells."

McGonagall shook her head. "Neither have I. It could be any of the other houses. Being a Parselmouth might indicate Slytherin is where he'll be, but I haven't seen him conjure anything outside of elemental spells."

"Draco's a cert for Slytherin," Narcissa said proudly. "Can't tell you how often he gets upset when he doesn't get his way only for him to magic what he wanted into being."

"Anyone care for a wager?" Lyra chimed in. "Whoever guesses the wrong house Harry is sorted into will have to help clean up the rune slab after rituals for remainder of that year."

"With magic?" Narcissa asked warily.

"By hand. And let's just say Gil and I will be making frequent use of it," she said menacingly.

Andromeda enjoyed her younger sister's paling face a little too much and ended up just voting the way Lyra had. If Lyra was setting the terms of the bet, she figured she must have a clue about the result.

* * *

"... and so I told him if you get an _-ology_ , you're a scientist," Sybill Trelawney said.

"Alright, we get it. Enough about your troubled nephew, are you ready to help us or not?" Sirius asked brusquely.

Ignoring or else blind to Sirius's impatience, Sybill said, "You're really asking me to use my prodigious prophetic abilities to scry… for a rat. A rather uncommon request, I must say."

McGonagall had informed Sirius and Ted about Trelawney's ability see a full minute into the future whenever she felt like it. Something she apparently used to annoy the daylights out of McGonagall frequently, made all the worse her habitual reminders of how great a Diviner she was and her alcoholic aroma. Now that they were visiting her small home, that aroma was all-encompassing; fortunately she didn't seem offended by the Bubble-Head Charms Sirius and Ted had cast.

"Not quite, we're looking for an Animagus who takes on the form of a -"

Suddenly Sybill looked at Sirius in shock, finally recognizing him; her hand twitched toward her wand before dropping to her lap. "You're lucky Minerva told me not to curse you. Now I see why she was so insistent about a discrete need my of services."

"Please. I was framed. The rat I'm looking for is Pettigrew. It's the only way I can clear my name." Sirius had gotten on his knees to grovel, fearing Trelawney would refuse to help now.

Sybill scoffed. "Oh off the ground, I was only spooked for a moment, you look like hell. I can see that I won't be annoyed at you in the near future so I might as well get on with it now."

She stood from her couch and led the two men to a room at the end of a small hallway, passed her bedroom and bathroom. The door at the end of the hall was rather ornate, made out of a dark, stained wood with carvings of disparate symbols. Suns, snakes and generic women adorned it in various patterns of some religious significance, though neither Ted nor Sirius paid it any mind.

The room behind the door was bereft of decoration as a psychomanteum ought to be. It's only contents were a plush chair facing a rectangular mirror that was suspended from the ceiling by a pair of ropes. Behind the mirror was an unlit candle atop a large candlestick. Before she closed the three of them in the room, Trelawney lit the candle behind the mirror with a simple charm by passing her hand in front of it. The three walked around the mirror and watched as Sybill sat upon the chair, facing the mirror. Despite the lit candle behind the mirror, once Sybill sat down the room was drowned in darkness once more; there was an ominous feel to the room now.

"Enchanted this mirror myself," she said proudly. "Not that you can see its beauty right now, but the best scrying mirrors are made by its intended user, not those cheap knock-offs Galloglass has been pumping out at the Alley." She seemed prepared to go into a tirade about the owner of the popular enchanted mirrors store but settled for a few brief insults. "Now, describe Pettigrew for me, personality as much as looks. The Eye can See but it helps to narrow its focus if time is of the essence." She closed her eyes and began to chant softly in another language. Sirius figured it was Greek given the imagery on the door.

"R-right," Sirius said nervously. He began thinking about his old friend about and wasn't surprised how angry he felt as he did so. "Peter was… a coward and a sycophant. A no-talent hack who wouldn't know honor if it bit him in the ars-"

Ted grasped Sirius's shoulder. "Mate, this isn't the time. If you want to catch the bastard we need to do this right. The longer he knows you're out of Azkaban the more likely he is to find another hidey-hole."

Not happy but no longer desiring to rant, Sirius started over. "Peter was complicated. Sometimes you'd wonder if the Sorting Hat was having a lark when it put him in Gryffindor, scared and whimpering as he often was. Other times he'd damn near jump in the fire to save a friend…"

Sirius trailed off momentarily, lost in his memories before Ted prodded him gently, so he continued. "He was always somewhat shorter than average, always made him feel self-conscious and looked down on in more ways than one. Didn't have much going for him looks-wise. After he became an Animagus, he did seem a bit more… rodent, outside the transformation. His buck teeth didn't go away till he Transfigured them, then there was -"

"I've got him," Sybill interrupted. Her eyes opened, revealing their bright green glow reflected in the mirror.

Said mirror clouded over with a green mist, which swirled around its surface like fog before quickly dissipating. The image was slightly blurred, though a it cleared when Trelawney muttered a Grecian incantation while pointing her wand at the hanging mirror. The mirror showed a tall house, if one could call it that. It was seemingly constructed by a mad architect, floors sitting atop the one below it at crooked angles and some were even lopsided, leaving the structure standing in defiance of physical law.

"He is at this house," Sybill said confidently. "Clearly he's cast some set of spells to obscure directly seeing him from afar, but that's almost pointless when dealing with a skilled Seer. Only the divine can truly block our Sight. Do you know this place?"

Sirius was about to frustratedly say he didn't when Ted spoke excitedly. "That's Arthur Weasley's home. Sirius, we've got him!"

* * *

"So, Mum. Did you stop by for any particular reason?" Arthur asked nervously. She had abruptly requested to Floo in just before noon and sent Percy to retrieve something from his room while the rest of his kids were playing in the snow outside. She did happily play with the children briefly, and even tolerated Molly, but she seemed intent on something or other in the house, as she would occasionally glance at the staircase.

Pouting in a way that did not befit her age, Cedrella Weasley said, "Can't a grandmother visit her grandkids on a whim? I did not realize I was so unwelcome. I suppose I'll just go home and waste away, alone…"

Crossing his arms, Arthur said, "Layin' it on a bit thick, aren't we?"

"Oh alright, Arthur. I did come for some urgent business. But I need to ask, you've still got an Anti-Disapparition Jinx warding the house _and_ property, don't you?"

Nonplussed, Arthur said, "Yes, but why d'you ask?" The serious look on his mother's face left him feeling anxious.

"Because I've been informed of something rather disturbing today by a relative. I need to make sure they can't get away."

"Who?"

"You've got an Animagus hiding here, son. A criminal."

Arthur's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. As Arthur was sputtering "who"s and "why"s, Cedrella simply said, "Percival's rat."

Before Arthur could storm up to his son's room, Percy returned downstairs. Cedrella breathed a sigh of relief that her grandson had done exactly as she had instructed and brought the rat down within the glass jar she charmed to be unbreakable.

"Gran, I brought Scabbers. Why does he need to be in a jar?" Percy asked. He sat the jar on the dining room table, leaving the rat within scurrying around in confusion. Cedrella removed the top of the jar and Stunned the rodent, leaving it unconscious as she levitated it out and onto the floor.

Pulling the worried Percy close to her, Cedrella pointed her wand ahead and said, "I'm sorry Percy but that's no rat. _Homorpho!_ "

For a brief, infinitesimal moment, Cedrella imagined nothing happening and how mad she would look to her family if it were actually a common garden rat. In reality, her Homorphus Spell began undoing the Animagus transformation. The rat's form bulged, twisted, shed fur and grew until there was an unconscious, dirty man upon the floor.

Arthur paled at seeing proof that they'd allowed some unknown to live on their property for five years, none the wiser to it being a man who could have hurt his family at his leisure. He watched as his mother, who bore a look of unrestrained contempt and loathing, proceeded to walk up to the man. When he saw her lift her leg up, he covered Percy's eyes just in time to stop the boy from seeing his grandmother break the man's nose with her foot. The sickening crunch was heard, however.

"This complete and utter… well, 'rat bastard' is too on the nose, isn't it?" she asked to herself. "I haven't thought up a strong enough word to describe this filth."

Percy was incredibly shocked. Shocked to see he'd been having a person faking being his pet, shocked to see his grandmother - who was usually as nice as could be, if a bit cutting in her remarks to his mother - be so cruel to the man on the floor. He was shocked that he wasn't as disturbed by the violence as he would have expected. He found himself more curious about what his grandmother would do to the man if left to her own devices.

"Gran, just who is that?" Percy asked curiously, hoping he wasn't in trouble.

"A murderer, Percy," she replied. Turning towards her son, Cedrella said, "Arthur, this is Peter Pettigrew. Yes, that one. Faked his death after betraying James and Lily. Call Amelia Bones, she's expecting your mirror call."

A few minutes after ringing her, Amelia came through the fireplace once Arthur opened his Floo connection to her. She brought two Aurors along with her. At her command, Dawlish and Gibson bound and arrested Pettigrew, and Flooed him back to the DMLE to be placed in a holding cell.

"Thank you for handling this quickly, Cedrella. I wasn't sure if Pettigrew had set up some sort of detection charms to warn of us coming," Amelia said apologetically. As if in cue, there was a startling screaming sound that caused everyone present to shiver in spite of themselves. "Yep, there goes a Caterwauling Charm."

"Think nothing of it. I took pleasu- well, um, it felt good to get a bit of work out of these old bones," Cedrella said embarrassedly to the younger witch.

Smiling, Amelia said, "Sirius turned himself in to me just a bit ago. It's a good thing Minerva sent Ted along with him, otherwise he'd have probably blasted his way in here and made a mess of things."

After sharing a laugh with her Head Witch, Cedrella asked, "Are we ready to begin?"

Amelia nodded. "I sent word to the rest of the court this morning that there would be a mandatory session in the afternoon. Once Sybill had verified the location, Crouch and I agreed we should strike while the iron's hot. It begins in two hours, we should head that soon."

Arthur had barely followed the conversation, confused by the sudden events. "Hang on, what's going on here? First Pettigrew is alive and you've caught Sirius Black, and now you're just going to leave without further explanation?"

Cedrella patted her son's head affectionately. "Don't trouble yourself about it dearie, I'll tell you about it later. Just be sure you get Percival a proper familiar this time, would you?"

After the two witches exited through the flames, Percy asked his father, "Can we visit granny more often?"

* * *

 **(Ministry of Magic, Courtroom Ten)**

"All present and accounted for, Minister," Dolores Umbridge said in her typical simpering manner.

Amelia had to consciously suppress the urge to roll her eyes dramatically. How Fudge thought positioning Umbridge as his Senior Undersecretary was beyond her. However, the woman was quite correct. For the first time since March the entire Wizengamot was in session within the eerie, dark stone of Courtroom Ten, all seated in the two levels of benches looking down at the pair of men seated at the floor of the court - one was awake and nervous, the other unconscious and unaware. Both were shackled to their chairs by the enchanted chains built into them.

The forty court members of the so-called Lower House - those elected every seven years - were seated on the lower level and clothed in their puce robes and bore a silver "W" near their left breast. Amelia was unsurprised to see the occasional member glance ever so briefly - and nervously - in Lucius's direction among the Lower House. The man collected blackmail material like others did Chocolate Frog cards. She noticed Augusta, whose seat was beside Lucius's, smile anytime this occured. Those of the Upper House - members who occupy from high-ranking Ministry positions, usually appointed by the current Minister - were dressed in their dark blue robes on the row above the Lower House. Several of the older members who had persisted across different administrations insisted on wearing the traditional biretta on their heads. Amelia found them much to silly and swore to never wear onex Bartemius was of the same opinion as he continued to refrain from them. Only Dumbledore seemed capable of pulling the look off.

In the middle of the semi-circle of court members were three raised seats for the most important members of the court-the Minister himself, seated in the middle and with the Chief Warlock and DMLE head to his sides. Members of the press and the public had finished filing into the stands behind the the two men at the base floor of the courtroom. Amelia spotted a number of her coven sisters filling in with the crowd, all wearing their Triskelion necklaces; Verona Selwyn was chatting amiably with Cassiopeia Black - Harry's great-aunt - likely about their upcoming power grab. Augusta's mother, Callidora, looked as if she was barely interested in the proceedings, though Amelia knew her well enough to know she was very excited by their bid to restore religious observance to wizarding Britain. To ensure a lack of outside interruptions, one of the court members had cast a Screening Barrier Charm to keep out all external sounds while allowing those watching to still be able to hear them clearly.

After thanking Umbridge, Fudge nodded at Dumbledore to begin the proceedings, though he was quite obviously dreading the coming trial. The Chief Warlock pointed his wand at Pettigrew and muttered, " _Rennervate._ " Moments later, the dumpy, wispy-haired man began to awaken groggily. He looked back and forth, initially not seeming to comprehend his location. However, once the chains of his chair tightened to prevent him from getting up, his eyes opened widely as he determined his circumstances and began looking back and forth wildly but unable to stand.

Dumbledore slightly enhanced the volume of his voice magically and began, "Murder trial of the 22nd of December, 1988, regarding offenses purportedly committed by Peter Pettigrew of-"

"It wasn't me - Sirius betrayed James and Lily to the You-Know-Who!" he screamed.

"-to be undertaken with an administration of Veritaserum as a precaution given the extraordinary circumstances, as made legal by this body some sixty years prior. If you would, Dawlish," Dumbledore said to the Auror, completely ignoring the interruption. He was giving Pettigrew a look of anger few had ever seen on his face.

Once the Auror in question had magically forced Pettigrew to consume the clear potion and Sirius had willingly taken it, he returned to guarding the entryway to the chamber. Several quick camera flashes from the members of the press occurred just then as a look of calm forced itself on both Sirius and Peter due to the potion.

Looking Pettigrew in the eye, Dumbledore said, "Interrogators, Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, DMLE Head Madam Amelia Bones, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, and this assembled body. You are Peter Pettigrew, born December 13th of 1959, correct?"

"I am."

Dumbledore had several papers before him with the details of the case but he apparently had memorized them. "Peter Pettigrew, you stand accused of high treason of the Ministry by means of aiding the dark wizard and terrorist, Lord Voldemort." He paused to allow the expected wincing and muttered curses at speaking the name before continuing. "You are further implicated in the mass murder of a dozen Muggle bystanders when Sirius Black cornered you in London several hours later. After interviews of Sirius Black conducted this morning by myself and Madam Bones using an intense combination of Legilimency and Veritaserum, we concluded there was ample cause to bring this before the full court once your continued presence was made known to us."

Interrupting him, Fudge quickly asked, "This was all rather sudden, Dumbledore. Just how did you determine where Pettigrew was alive so quickly? You and Madam Bones claim to only have apprehended Black this very morning."

"We had Black make use of the services of a Seer once his story showed merit. She scryed Pettigrew's location so Madam Bones and her Aurors arrested him quickly," Dumbledore said cooly, causing Fudge's mouth to close tightly. It was an open secret that the DMLE would turn to Seers whenever they hit roadblocks in major cases. However, their efforts were rarely publicly acknowledged so that the Ministry would save face.

Turning his attention away from the Minister, Dumbledore asked, "How did you escape notice the intervening seven years since your faked death, Pettigrew?"

"I'm an Animagus, I learned how to become one while at school. I'd hidden myself as a pet rat in the home of a wizard family," he said it a flat tone.

Amelia was thankful Dumbledore skipped over the matter of whose home he had hidden in, as he pressed on, "What was your intent in doing so? Why not simply leave the country? You had hoodwinked everyone into believing you had been killed. No one was looking for you."

"I was afraid," he admitted. "Even if the Dark Lord had gone, his supporters were very much alive here and abroad. Some of them knew I had given him the Secret that lead to his body being destroyed by Harry Potter. And if he came back, I-I thought staying near wizards might give me useful information to present Him. I didn't want to die."

Fudge had apparently not finished yet and decided to try and turn things in his favor. "Black. You admitted to causing the deaths of the Potters in the early morning hours of November the 1st, 1981 correct? I distinctly heard you say this upon my arrival with the Hit Wizards."

In the same serene state as Pettigrew, Sirius answered, "I caused their deaths, yes. But that was because my idea to keep them safe backfired. I'd have never worked for Voldemort, I'd rather've died."

"Then why the hell were you screaming that it was your fault? Were you trying to mislead the investigators? A misplaced sense of guilt to save your remaining friend, perhaps?"

Seeing that the incensed Fudge was prioritizing his own hide as Lucius had predicted, Amelia interjected with her own magnified voice, "Pettigrew, what plan is Sirius referring to?"

"Sirius believed that making me James and Lily's Secret-Keeper would throw off the Dark Lord's forces. He thought they would go for him immediately without even considering me."

"And did you betray the Potters to Voldemort? Did you give him the Secret that allowed him access to their home beneath the Fidelius Charm they cast?"

"I did."

At that admission the camera flashes seemed endless; the barrier thankfully kept the sound outside from reaching their ears. Many of the court members were up in arms, hissing indistinct words at the drugged man before a banging sound came from Dumbledore's outstretched wand, quickly restoring order to Wizengamot.

"As for the matter of the murder of twelve Muggles soon afterwards, Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked icily.

Fudge interjected, "It was clearly Black attacking in a fit of rage. Muggles who survived the curse report seeing Black be the aggressor in the confrontation. While admirable in a sense, this court cannot abide mass murder as a means of revenge."

"I killed them. Blew them up with a Blasting Curse after trying to frame Sirius for it," he admitted matter-of-factly. "I used the moment to escape as a rat before Sirius could capture me, and left a severed finger behind to implicate him."

Amelia was glad Fudge finally shut up at this statement. His assurances to the court after his capture of Sirius helped solidify his fledgling support after Bartemius's chances to become Minister were diminished.

"All in favor of charging Pettigrew guilty on all discussed counts?" Dumbledore asked while glaring at Pettigrew.

All hands raised simultaneously.

Dumbledore waved his wand to undo the potion's effect on the two wizards and waited briefly for them to come out of the trance-like state it left them in. "Peter Pettigrew, you are sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. May the gods have mercy on your soul, for none present have any to offer." Even Amelia was surprised, though perhaps not so much. Dumbledore had been particularly fond of the Potter family.

Augusta addressed the court, saying, "There's still the matter of what to do with Black. He did break out of Azkaban."

Thinking he'd gotten the opening he sought, Fudge gleefully said, "Yes, yes, Longbottom's right. Black may not be the murderer we believed but it's still illegal to break out of prison."

"And time wrongfully served will suffice as punishment," Crouch said abruptly.

"Ye-what?"

Crouch regarded Fudge with an air of disdain. "Minister Fudge, we surely don't wish to send the message that in our own lawbreaking we shall punish the victim? As the then-current head of the DMLE, I accept my responsibility in this for refusing Black a trial. Can you do the same?"

"I-of course", he said too quickly.

At that, Dumbledore called it to a vote with nearly everyone raising their hands at pardoning Sirius, to the renewed excitement of the audience. As the court prepared to end the session, however, Lucius Malfoy stood tall and got everyone's attention.

"There's another matter we ought to settle before we leave today." He looked at Fudge with cruel smirk. "After embarrassing the community with the Soviet Ministry, failing to find Harry Potter - again, making us a laughing stock to other nations- and the obviously self-interested adjudication on display today, it's become clear to myself and many other court members."

"What are you on about, Malfoy?" called out an unidentified member.

Instead of answering, he flicked his wand at the paper in his hand and cast a mass Doubling Charm, causing dozens of copies of the document to appear on the laps of the wizards present.

Made queasy by Lucius's expression, Fudge grab his copy and read it with haste. His eyes shot wide open when he reached the end. "A vote of no-confidence?You've gone mad, Malfoy!

"Have I? Not only have you reduced our prestige in the world, the goblins are getting vocal about you, leading to those rather nasty rumors."

"Who the bloody hell take _The Quibbler_ seriously?" he seethed angrily.

"I suspect I speak for everyone that I enjoy unencumbered access to my bank vault. I ask the court, is this the image we wish to project to wizards worldwide? A childish man who speaks without thinking and is more interested in protecting his own prospects than that of Britain and Ireland?"

Many heads nodded in response and there was a great amount of whispers between various members and the press members still in attendance were snapping photos repeatedly, leaving Amelia with the desire to cast a charm to obscure them. However, numerous wizards began to raise their wands, signalling their agreement with Lucius's proposition. A signalling Amelia joined in, leading to a look a betrayal from the Minister.

Forty-five members of the court had their wands raised. Fudge stormed out of the courtroom shamefacedly. It was a rare thing for a Minister for Magic to get the sack and Fudge knew it. His ugly expression was captured on camera for posterity.

Dumbledore had voted for Fudge's removal, though he was highly suspicious of the seemingly coordinated nature of the proceedings that led to it, but he couldn't see the connection between the members. Amelia, Bartemius, Lucius, Augusta; nothing came to mind. He glanced around the chamber briefly and noticed a few audience members that got his mind turning.

"I suppose you'll be nominating yourself as Cornelius's successor, Lucius?" Dumbledore asked warily.

"Quite the contrary. There are a number of worthy candidates whom I would pale in comparison to, not the least of which is you. But there's one who is everything we need from our Minister. A good reputation here and abroad, high public support and a strong record in the Wizengamot. I nominate Crouch to take Fudge's place."

That drew a number of eyes. Amelia was sure that even the members being blackmailed into compliance assumed Lucius was attempting to take the seat of power himself. But Crouch and Malfoy didn't have any particularly good history with each other. Many recalled that Crouch had been adamantly for throwing Lucius into Azkaban without a proper trial before it came to light that the man had been bewitched. But none could deny the quality of the candidate.

"I second Lucius's nomination," said Richard Greengrass. "Bartemius is the man of the hour."

Members of the Wizards National Party attempted to suggest their own candidates, but none of them gained more than about ten supporting members.

"All in favor of Bartemius's nomination?" the Chief Warlock finally asked.

With a 42-to-15 for and against confirmed, Crouch stood and said, "I will endeavor to do this office justice. The times ahead will be tough but with a firm hand we can become the beacon we should have been. I accept this court's decision."

Ignoring the excitement of those watching, the members of the Black coven quickly left the courtroom to convene outside.

"That went even smoother than I expected," Lucius said, looking rather pleased with himself.

Amelia nodded. "We're lucky. The WNP couldn't have thought Picknesse would garner enough support to defeat Barty."

"They were desperate," Crouch said. "Thus far we have managed to keep our backroom planning from being discovered. As I will be in the spotlight, that should allow us to continue this way a little longer as the attention is off anyone else."

"Albus is onto us," Augusta said seriously. "I kept an eye on him the whole time. His gaze swept from us to our sisters in attendance."

Lucius seemed annoyed at this news. "I'd hoped to keep out of the loop until we'd unveiled ourselves. Too much to hope for, clearly."

"Indeed it was, Lucius," came an unexpected voice. A figure that had been invisible faded into visibility: Dumbledore was looking at the four of them with a cautious expression. "Considering how long the you must have been planning this I'm surprised you'd be so careless as to meet in this hallway. Your exit did tip me off."

"What is it you want, Albus?" Crouch asked bluntly.

"I simply wished to know what was going on," he replied, eyes twinkling. "I know that the Black family is related to nearly every other family. But so many of you who aren't so distantly related, all appearing at today's session? I have an idea about what you're planning on doing but humor me."

"If you already know do we need to say it?"

Ignoring the question, he became deadly serious. "Consider the consequences of unleashing a new, unpredictable deity on the world; the Black Death comes to mind. Even Perenelle and Nicholas have had their fair share of trouble with the commands Aphrodite has given them on occasion."

Looking at him sternly, Augusta said, "We are not children you need talk down to. Brilliant as you may be, you aren't the only wizard with a bit of knowledge of history. We chose our idol well."

"You've already performed the deification ritual?" he said in shock. As he recovered from it, he began to emit a tangible pressure on the four of them, a nearly visible aura of power seemed to exude from the man's body. Amelia felt as if the air had become very thin and drew her wand, thinking Dumbledore was going to attack them in broad daylight. "A word of warning then. Should your number seek to use your power Irresponsibly or for ill, know that I will do everything in my power to bring you to your knees. Covens have been broken up and destroyed before. Remember that."

As the elder wizard walked off, the four looked at each other nervously. He really was the last person they needed to find out about their scheming.

* * *

 **(Christmas 1988, Lockhart Residence, Winding Hollow)**

"Daddy, come on!" Hermione said anxiously as she and her mother quickly made their way up the steps of the Georgian house at the end of the otherwise Muggle area. "Harry's expecting any us minute now."

Daniel Granger had the unfortunate job of carrying the stack of wrapped books and other oddly shaped packages his daughter had gotten the boy for a Christmas present. He knew this Harry had saved his daughter's life, but absconding with her in the process led to the longest, most frightening hour of his life. But bad mouthing him would probably result in him being in the doghouse with both his wife and daughter so he didn't say anything about it.

Huffing a bit in the bitter December air, he said, "Just a moment, these are heavy. What books did you get him?"

Delighted to discuss books as she always was, Hermione said, "Oh he'll like them for sure. He was telling me he didn't know anything about the gods his family worshiped, so I asked Mum to purchase the classics. You know, the _Odyssey_ and Hesiod's _Theogony_."

"Anything from this century?" he asked hopefully.

"Dan, don't worry. Hermione and he have been sending owls back and forth every other day since they met," Emma said. "She and I picked some fun games as well. Besides, she asked for the nicest thing."

When Dan asked what it was, Hermione pulled a heart shaped pendant from her neck. It was the sort that split down the middle to be shared with a friend.

"Um, you're a bit young for that," he said.

"It's just a friendship pendant, honestly Dan. It's cute."

As the trio reached the front door, they noticed the light fixture outside the house was in the shape of a figure with three connected bodies and holding two torches. Daniel was pretty sure that was Hecate's usual depiction.

Daniel looked a little uncomfortable at the sight. "They really are pagans. If I see any blood altars or magical gateways to the underworld, we're not staying."

Emma chuckled a bit but made a mental note to keep an eye out for them; who knew what religious wizards were into. She rang the doorbell and several seconds later a good looking younger woman with jet black hair answered the door.

"Oh you'll be the Grangers, yes? Harry has been talking about your daughter here for days."

Hermione smiled and asked, "Is Harry here yet?"

The woman smiled and said, "He's inside playing with his cousins. Do come in, we've been interested to see Harry's little friend here."

As the Grangers entered and hung some of their winter clothing on an empty coat rack, Emma said, "You've a lovely home, Miss…?"

"Lockhart. Lyra Lockhart."

Hermione's eyes grew wide in excitement. "Are you related to Gilderoy Lockhart, the adventurer?"

"So young and already a fan of my husband?" Lyra said in amusement. "Oh he'll love to know how well he's doing with the youth demographic."

"Did he really defeat five trolls single handedly to save a small Muggle town?"

"It was three trolls, but his publisher likes to encourage Gil to embellish things to sound more impressive." She sighed tiredly. "It's going to his head, I can see it clearly."

As Lyra led them into the large dining room, the Grangers were impressed by the lengthy table, not to mention the magically expanded room that allowed for it. Seated were dozens of witches and wizards of various sorts, either chatting with each other or else looking at them curiously.

"Hermione!" someone called out.

A small, bespectacled boy with messy black hair was making a beeline for Hermione, looking just as excited as their daughter.

"Harry!" she quickly gave him a hug in, leaving the both of them a bit embarrassed as a numbers of adults chuckled in response. Despite his reservations, even Dan had to join in.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione!" he said happily.

"Thanks for the invitation. I've never been to a wizarding home before." Hermione had been looking everywhere, hoping to see something obviously magical in the home. But aside from the magically enlarged room, nothing looked very magical. "Will your family goddess be here?"

That stopped Harry in his tracks. "I'm not sure. Let's try it out!" He brought his left hand up to his face, letting Hermione see the odd tattoo on the back of his hand. "Lady Morgana, are you there?"

* * *

Next chapter: **A Black Christmas**

 **(A/N):** Whew, finally. Again, super sorry about the unnecessary delay. Next chapter will be released in a week or two. It's only going to be a short chapter detailing the Christmas party and the Blacks making contact with a foreign coven that has been mentioned a couple of times. Hogwarts will properly begin the chapter after that one, chapter 9.

I think I've made Hermione into a bit more of a child prodigy than she was in canon. Oh well, it wasn't that bad was it?

Tell me what you think!


End file.
